It seems that the last post caused a bit of a flap - unintentional on The Sribe's part and she humbly apologises to all concerned. Having written the entry when a little on the tired side, The Scribe then re-read it the following day and decided amendments were required. Unbeknowns to The Scribe - other than my loyal band of followers - there are actually other people reading this and the result was a few concerned texts flying between here and the Med.
Panic yee not!!!
I am reassued by The Kipper and the crew-of-two that everything is fine and dandy and they are now making excellent progress towards their final destination. The Kipper did have added stress and pressure caused by fact that Mummy Kipper wasn't very well (that's Mrs Kipper senior not the current Mrs Kipper...if you follow...). Understandably, The Kipper was very concerned and was receiving regular updates from home on her condition. Add this to the cauldron of worries about the time delays, the lack of wind, the cost of diesel and the fact that they have to put up with looking at half naked females in all the anchorages they visit - well, you can imagine the pressure. I am still willing to wager that there has been the occasional 'sailors flounce' (see RYA Practical Yachtmaster course) on board accompanied by words to the effect of, 'I'm just off to the foredeck to check the trim on the headsail'.
So, let us now catch up on their progress:
I think we left our intrepid crew in Mahon and so on Thursday the 1st August, they set sail for Sardinia with a planned journey time of a couple of days. At 06:17 hrs The Kipper wrote:
'Morning, setting off for Sardinia in a couple of hours, will be out of phone range for a couple of days. Will let you know when we arrive. It's getting closer all the time, won't be long now.'
The Scribe naturally wished them bon voyage and hoped that they would finally get some good wind and some decent sailing. The Scribe was looking forward to the word picture they would send back from Sardinia as she has heard alot about it but had never managed to get there. She was immediately crushed by this reply:
'Hope only to stay at anchorage for a night before moving on to Sicily.'
Bugger!! The Scribe was looking forward to hearing all about it - still, I guess one beautiful, sun-drenched anchorage full of half naked females is much the same as another so I guess we're not missing anything.
The next update came at 19:10 hrs on Friday 3rd August:
'Hi, just a quick message before you go to bed, we are just arriving in Sardinia, about 12 miles from our overnight anchorage. It's about 25 miles outside of Cagliari. A long hard motor, had a couple of periods of sailinng but very short. Dinner and well deserved beer when we get the anchor down.'
The Scribe would just like to take this opportnuity to point out that she doesn't actually go to bed by 19:30 hrs every evening...although it is awfully tempting.
He continued with this update on the journey into their anchorage:
'Got some tricky pilotage between an unlit island and an unlit headland before it gets dark then a straight run to the anchorage. Beer and food well deserved by all!'
There was a small break down in communication at this point which either meant that The Kipper's battery was flat or he was having far too good a time to bother texting or his phone was eaten by a dolphin or he and the crew-of-two had finally fallen victim to that naughty sail that shall not be named...or maybe, he was just busy. The Scribe too was a bit busy running around after 8 chickens (last count) 5 cats, then 3 cats because two went AWOL, then the cats came home but one of the chickens got sick, then one of the cats hurt it's paw and was confined to barracks all week, then the cat got better but one of the others disappeared again and then the Labrador puppy chewed up her shoes. It's been one of those weeks!
The next update was recieved when I finally called The Kipper on Saturday the 4th August to find out what they were up to. It was at this point that I received the update about Mummy Kipper. I'm fairly certain that they had reached Sicily by this point but don't ask me where because I didn't write it down so I don't have a hope of remembering.
The latest from them came through today - at 11:21 hrs The Kipper wrote:
'Just arrived at Cefalu Sicily. Now for shopping, water, fuel and very much needed shower. Meal ashore this evening. Setting off for Volcano, an island just off the NE coast in the morning. Then it will be the final 300 miles to Greece!'
Jolly exciting news I thought. Only 300 miles to go. It seems all of a sudden they are on the doorstep and their adventure is nearly at an end. The Scribe spoke to The Kipper and the conversation went something like this:
'Blah blah blah blah blah bloody hot here blah blah blah white sandy beach blah women in bikinis blah blah blah blah beer blah blah Steve blah speedos off again blah blah blah Little Bobbie D blah blah in the cockpit blah little towel wrapped around him blah blah bottom are on show blah blah blah me sitting her wrapped only in a towel...'
At which point, The Scribe hung up...clearly, it was a wrong number.
The Scribe was a little concerned at the mention of the word Volcano. Images of human sacrifice came to mind when The Kipper mentioned that they would be going there and for a time, The Scribe was slightly concerned for the crew-of-two.
By 13:26 hrs, things appeared to be business as usual:
'Done the shopping and had a shower, now having a beer in bar overlooking the anchorage. Need to replace some fluids! You want to see this place; tiny back streets, frantastic beaches, loads of character and full of Italians. Easily spend time here exploring.'
Italians....so could The Scribe!
The Scribe confessed that her image of Sicily was somewhat clouded by the fact that she had only visited Palermo and she quite wrongly assumed that all of Sicily lived up to this standard. The Kipper confirmed,
'Palermo is a dump but this place is very nice, very friendly people these Cosa Nostra guys! On the happy side of squiggly, well I am. Ashore this evening for dinner.'
And so, there you have it; our Kipper and his crew-of-two are about to head off to begin the final few miles to their destination. Julie, I think the time has come for you to throw that bikini in the suitcase and dust off that plane ticket, you shall be reunited with Himself before very long. Steve will be reunited with his own boat and The Kipper can jolly well get himself home because no doubt Mrs Kipper has a list of jobs for him and he has work to do...Bike Blenheim is almost upon us.
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