After a beautiful last day in Italy, we lifted our anchor and rounded the harbor walls that had protected us. As if to escort us, dozens of small tourist boats left at the same time, heading towards the picturesque lighthouse that marks the entrance to the Adriatic Sea. They all steered towards the many caves that are tucked into the cliffs on the eastern shore. We passed them at a distance and motored for about four hours before we could set sail and continue pushing north with the wind.

The sun was shining mercilessly and we moved our chairs all over the boat, trying to stay in the shade. Buckets of seawater helped keep cool and wash off the sweat. At least at night, which was uneventful and beautiful, it was a little cooler.

The following afternoon, the wind died down and without the breeze it seemed like the temperature immediately increased even further. Erica was slowly getting fed up with the heat as we continued under engine. In the evening, Erica spotted a big dark cloud in the distance. Whereas I only saw a potential for shade, Erica foreshadowed a thunderstorm, but I remained optimistic, as the forecast had not indicated anything but clear skies and sunshine. Not long after she had retired downstairs to catch some rest before her night shift, at around 9:30 pm, it all suddenly started: Bright bolts of lightning started to appear in the ever-growing cloud in front of us, increasing their frequency until the sky was illuminated every other second. On our chart plotter, we saw that two fishing boats that had been drifting in place ahead of us suddenly turned around at full speed and headed southeast, toward the Albanian coast. As the wall of clouds grew bigger ahead of us, we started to become uneasy too. There were flickers of light everywhere (surprisingly no thunder though) and sometimes the lightning bolts seemed to stretch for kilometers across the entire front. I’d never seen such a spectacle before.

We decided to turn northeast, towards Budva, a Montenegrin harbor town. Going parallel to the front, we hoped to reach it before the clouds hit us. However, after an hour, we noticed that the weather system seemed to move along with us and was getting closer and closer to us. We turned around, hoping to pass the front on the outside, in the open sea. Minutes later, a heavy downpour signaled that it had caught up with us. Luckily, we were only touched by the outskirts of the system, as the rain ceased a few minutes later just as quickly as it had begun, and a comfortable northeasterly breeze set in. We motored for another 30 minutes to get some distance from all the lightning, now considerably closer to us, and then we set sail and changed our course back to Croatia.

My shift had long ended by that time, but since neither of us had rested, Erica took the first break to sleep for a couple of hours so she could take over later. Soon after, the wind became less strong, and with all the excitement gone, I could feel the tiredness setting in. When Erica got up again, my 7-hour shift finally came to an end and I happily crawled into bed.

In the morning, we entered Croatian waters and closed in on our destination, Cavtat, a lovely little town in the very south of the country. As we were a few miles out, I realized, however, that the immigration office in Cavtat was closed on Sundays and we wouldn’t be able to get a permit. Much to our dislike, we had to continue further to the city of Dubrovnik.

Right after that decision, the only real injury on our one-year trip came about: I heavily stumped my little toe on the casing of the instruments and was in pain throughout the rest of the short remaining journey.

We docked at the customs office in Dubrovnik and after the formalities, headed a few miles further north to the tiny town of Zaton, where we finally dropped the anchor. Before I really got to rest though, Erica rowed me to shore and I caught an Uber to have my toe checked at the hospital. Fortunately, it wasn’t broken and when I returned to the boat in the afternoon, I could finally enjoy a cooling swim in the Croatian waters.

With good pizza and bergamot ice cream in our stomachs, we traveled from Reggio to Santa Maria di Leuca with one stop in between. First, we sailed to Crotone and then we continued to the Salento peninsula in southeast Italy.

Hot days and nights at sea
At around midday, after the engine check, we left Reggio behind and ventured back into the Strait of Messina. Luckily, we had some good wind (between 17 and 21 knots) from the north, so we were able to enjoy a fast and comfortable downwind sail out of the strait. Not long after we’d rounded the tip of the boot, the wind died down a bit, but this change in strength did not hinder us from sailing further. We continued throughout the very humid night under sail and only started the engine the next morning at 10 a.m. when the wind had died down. Without any wind to push us forward and cool us down, we motored the rest of the way to Crotone in the unbearable heat. Upon arrival, we took a cool shower and sat in the shade. Since it was so hot on board that evening, we decided that it'd be better to eat out so as to not heat the boat further. It was a good decision as we got to enjoy an array of fish-based starters and some pasta. The following day, I took care of the laundry in the morning and in the late afternoon, at around 3:30 p.m., we embarked on our trip to Santa Maria di Leuca. We could’ve done this trip during the day, but we wanted to escape the strong sunrays. While we weren't constantly covered in sweat, our skin was constantly sticky, which was quite uncomfortable (making it almost impossible for me to sleep without having to wash myself after every 3-hour shift). After alternating between sailing and motor sailing, we anchored outside of the harbour of Santa Maria di Leuca at around 10:30 a.m.

Celebrating another trip around the sun in Santa Maria di Leuca
Once the anchor was set and we put everything away, I only had one thing on my mind: get into the water as fast as I could. So as soon as I had the chance, I slipped into the clear blue water and floated on my inflatable tube. After relaxing in the water for quite some time, we rowed to land as we’d set our minds on going to Martinucci, an excellent bakery chain in the region of Puglia, to have some birthday cake. I opted for a creamy tiramisu and a refreshing homemade almond granita – both were so delicious! We then got some groceries before heading back to Manhé where we spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying the beautiful day bobbing outside of the harbour of Leuca. For supper, we decided to go to a nice restaurant for a fish dinner. The meal was excellent, but we left feeling uncomfortably full: What was supposed to be a fish perfect for two people, ended up being a huge one weighing about 1 kg. Next time we won’t simply take the waiter’s word for it but ask to see what we’re ordering to avoid paying more than we’d like to. Though it was way too much fish, it was really good.

Despite having to endure the heat and humidity at sea, the discomfort was well worth it. It made us enjoy our time at anchor even more. I really couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend our last day in southern Italy.

Finally on the move again

We left Trapani at midnight, the same day the engine had been fixed, and traveled 56 nautical miles (around 103km) along the Sicilian coast to Palermo. The wind was steady and as soon as we left the port, we set sail and glided through the flat water, leaving the bright lights of Trapani and the mountain village Erice behind us. The wind got us all the way along the eastern coast, but as we started to pass along the national park where we had hiked a few days prior, it died down so we turned on the engine to continue. We docked at the marina in the Palermo harbor by noon, very punctual for our reserved mooring. This gave me just enough time to handle all the formalities before my video call for work that started at 12:50.

In the evening, when the sun was not quite as strong anymore, we walked downtown through the old city center bustling with tourists. We headed straight to the restaurant we had discovered last time we were here and enjoyed a lovely dinner before treating ourselves to Sicilian cannolo and a granita to cool down.

Cefalù

The following day, we wanted to quickly buy some groceries and then head out to make up for the lost time in Trapani. At the grocery store, we discovered that we were not allowed to buy any water due to governmental regulations as it was a special holiday. We nevertheless urgently needed the water, as tap water is not potable in most of Sicily. I still do not understand this rule, but after a lot of back and forth, we were told that although we couldn't carry any water bottles to our boat, delivery was permitted. So instead of heading out in the morning, we walked back to the boat empty-handed and waited for our groceries to arrive. By noon, we were finally all set and after a brief stop at the gas station, we motored for seven hours along the coast and dropped our anchor in front of the medieval town of Cefalù. After a mandatory swim in the sea to cool down we decided that, although it was late, we could not leave out the beautiful town and rowed to a small pier. Again, the streets were packed with tourists but we managed to secure a table at a lovely restaurant in a small side street. After sampling the delicious local pasta specialties, we got our last cannoli to go and devoured them back in the cockpit of Manhé 1.

The following day, we got up extra early, went for a quick pre-sunrise swim around the boat, and left the anchorage just as the sun peeked through between the roofs of the town. No one seemed awake yet and we enjoyed the view of the castle rising behind the town as we glided through the water, which was completely flat. Later that day, a light breeze came about, but we wanted to cover a lot of ground and therefore continued by engine. After 10 long hours, we reached a lovely bay called Tindari, tucked in behind a mountain on the top of which stands a popular place of pilgrimage, the Sanctuary of the Black Madonna. We had no intention of hiking up the steep hill after the hot day and instead, immediately after we dropped the anchor, we jumped into the water. However, It was not as refreshing as we had hoped, as the heat wave had warmed up the sea to 30°C. We enjoyed staying on board in the evening and had a lovely home-cooked curry in the cockpit. We were both tired from the long day, but it was still way too hot to go to bed. Despite the humidity, I decided to sleep outside, and even then I only laid down at midnight, when the air had somewhat cooled off. The heat wave had fully caught up with us now.

A final day motoring

After a brief night, we again got up before sunrise and quickly jumped into the water to cool off at least a little before we again motored through the entire day in the heat. This day, however, was more eventful as we reached the strait of Messina by noon. As we navigated through the passage, we had to remain vigilant for the numerous boats passing by, including the swordfish fishing vessels. These boats had baskets atop their masts and were typically operated by a small crew of 2-3 people. Another fisherman would man the long, lance-like bowsprit, poised to strike at any potential prey.

The strait of Messina used to be feared by seamen due to its strong currents and whirlpools. Nowadays, most engines can easily overcome the surge, but it is still a sight to behold when a clear ridge develops between two opposing currents or when a patch of waves suddenly appears on the surface of the otherwise calm waters. On top of these irregularities, the wind kept on shifting and after we left the narrow passage in the north behind us, we alternated between sailing and using the motor. Nine hours after our departure, we finally reached the port of Reggio di Calabria where we filled up the fuel tank before docking at the marina.

Unfortunately, Massimo and Martha, the lovely couple we had met earlier in Reggio, were on vacation, so this time we had to grab some delicious pizza and gelato without them. Despite their absence, they still helped us tremendously by organizing Valentino, the local mechanic who performed the necessary valve clearance calibrations after the almost 40 hours we had used the engine since Trapani.