Cast off! Let the great journey begin!

From Corfu, Greece, to Palermo, Italy

With three packed bags and plenty of gear, I flew from EuroAirport Basel to Corfu, Greece, on June 9, 2018 —three hours late — to begin my adventure. Together with Mom and Dad, I got the boat back in shape. The work turned out to be a bit more difficult than expected. Who would have thought that the Greeks only work from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m.? After four weeks of hard work, Mom and Dad’s tremendous effort, and a few beads of sweat later, the boat not only shone practically like new but was also technically ready for the big trip. Thanks again to Peter for your valuable help and tips!

Once Mom and Dad had left, it was time for me to cast off, and the adventure could begin. I spent the first few days alone on board, getting used to the simple life at sea—showering under the open sky, the constant rocking, and using water and electricity sparingly. At the same time, I was gaining my first experiences as a solo sailor. For example, the anchoring maneuver became much easier thanks to the GoPro, which allowed me to see the anchor chain in real time from the helm.

In mid-July, Steffen from Berlin joined me, and the journey could finally really begin. We spent the next few days in various bays around Corfu. We snorkeled along the coast and enjoyed life on board. Thanks to my friend

After checking the weather forecast, we decided to set out for our next overnight stop the very next day. After a mixed-language discussion in Italian and English with the harbor master, we were finally refunded the money for our already-paid overnight berth. We waited briefly for the thunderstorm to pass and set sail late in the afternoon, heading toward Sicily. After a period of calm, the wind picked up, and by 1:00 a.m. we suddenly had winds of up to 23 knots. We took the life jackets out of the bunks and put them on for the first time, set the first reef in the mainsail, and furled the genoa. Even so, we were still making up to 6 knots. Relaxed night watches are a different story…

On August 2, four more Germans “boarded” my boat in Riposto :-). After a big shopping trip—150 liters of water, countless cans of pesto, Tetra Pak white wine, and new drinking cups—we set off for the Aeolian Islands. The Strait of Messina was far less spectacular than expected, and the eastern coast of Sicily was also less than thrilling.

Our first stop in the Aeolian Islands was Volcano, an island with an active sulfur volcano whose pungent smell in the air and water ruined our homemade pasta. The next day, despite the sulfur smell and stifling heat, we made our way up to the volcano’s crater. We had that stinky sand on board for the next three days…but it was worth it. The atmosphere of being so close to the crater, along with the lunar landscape, was impressive. With a light breeze, we sailed on to the island of Stromboli, home to the active volcano. Unfortunately, our swimming fun that day was ruined by a fire jellyfish, later dubbed “Berta the bitch.” The jellyfish left Sophia with a severe burn on her back, which is still visible today. From then on, we instituted a “jellyfish watch” before anyone took their first dip in the sea. Shortly before sunset, we set out to climb the volcano. After a leisurely hike, we were able to experience the impressive spectacle of the spewing volcano up close in the dark. It never ceases to amaze me what nature has to offer!

A few relaxing drinks at anchor and sundowners later, Verena and Maze left us after just ten days in Lipari. The four of us continued on toward Alicudi and Filicudi. Unfortunately, halfway there, due to the light wind, we decided not to head for the two islands and instead sail directly to the mainland. When we got there

Since we didn’t want to stay in the harbor for a few hours, we sailed on. Looking for a suitable nearby cove that would offer us more shelter at night this time, we headed for a beautiful little cove off Cefalù. Thanks to the fresh water flowing in from the nearby mountain, the water was quite refreshing at 24 degrees—whereas before, we’d often searched in vain for relief in water that was 28 degrees. We quickly found our way around the picturesque tourist hotspot of Cefalù. The girls went shopping, while the guys enjoyed the afternoon with a caffè freddo. We rounded out the evening with Aperol Spritz and a fantastic mixed antipasti platter on board.

On August 14, we anchored in a cove just outside Palermo along with about 40 other small motorboats and rubber dinghies. It felt like deafening music was blaring at us from every boat. Shortly before sunset, however, the motorboats and rubber dinghies disappeared from the cove as usual, and we were practically alone at anchor. When we saw a few campfires on the beach in the dark, we decided to head to the mainland—without dinner but with a bottle of wine under our arms—to wind down the evening there. To our surprise, we were greeted on the beach by countless campers and children playing and swimming in the water. We had completely forgotten that it was the evening before Ferragosto, the start of the Italian summer vacation.

Our rumbling stomachs drew us onward; the music in the distance led us across the street, up the hill, and to the campground. The DJ was desperately trying to get the party started and get the crowd going. But apart from a few kids and us, there was no one else in sight. Then, all of a sudden, an Italian summer hit came on, and people poured in from all directions, filling the dance floor. We were shocked to discover that the Italians have a different dance for every song. We, in the back row, tried rather desperately to follow the steps. No sooner had we more or less got the hang of the steps than the next song came on—and with it, a new dance. Unfortunately, we hadn’t anticipated that we’d have to turn 180 degrees, which left us standing in the front row with all eyes on us. After two hours of dancing, we were completely exhausted and couldn’t believe it was only 10:30. We rewarded ourselves for our haphazard dance moves with a delicious pizza afterward.

The next morning, we headed to a marina for the first time in 14 days to stock up on water and electricity. The Palermo City marina was unremarkable, and the long-awaited shower was less appealing than we’d imagined. Patricia and Steffen left us again to head back to Germany, and the next day the new crew came on board.