An unbroken chain of impassable mountains, and if you sail along the coast, you will find no anchorage on this side of the island, while violent but irregular gusts of wind sweep down to the sea from the mountaintops.
This is how Pausanias described the east coast of Sardinia 2000 years ago, according to our guidebook. The east coast of Sardinia stretches from Capo Ferro to Capo Carbonara, and somewhere in between, we also find Cala Cappuccino. From Cape Coda Cavallo to Capo Carbonara, there are only five safe harbours and many exposed anchorages. The coast is characterised by mountains rising straight from the sea – it's beautiful but also a bit intimidating.
Before we left Norway, I had already decided that we should return to Cala Gonone and the beautiful places there. Once again enjoy good climbing opportunities and beautiful beaches. Little did I concern myself with good anchorages and shelter at the time.
Visitors
We're thrilled to have visitors! Morten, Ingunn, Oskar, and Magnus greeted us on the beach at Cala Gonone, toes dipped in the water, glowing with warmth. We transferred the printer, luggage, food, and everyone onto Yggdrasil. The water, turquoise and crystal clear beckoned us for a swim. Post-dip, we indulged in Prosecco, sausages, olives, and cheese — a quintessential Italian welcome. Later, anchoring closer to Cala Fuili, we savored seafood pasta, Italian beer, and delightful company, rounding off a great day. We are so pleased to have them onboard.
However, the rolling motion begins to unsettle the visitors. A growing sense of queasiness emerges, and the idea of sleeping in the swaying "castle" becomes somewhat intimidating. Nevertheless, we all endured the night, and the following day started with a refreshing morning swim and espresso. Subsequently, we ventured to explore some incredible cave systems shaped by river erosion for million of years. The Grotta del Bue Marino is an enthralling coastal cave system. Its name, "Bue Marino," means "Monk Seal" a nod to the Mediterranean monk seal that used to reside there.
This system is noted for its extraordinary geological formations and ancient petroglyphs. We had the opportunity to explore only the first kilometer of the extensive 72-kilometer system, which is the second-largest cave in Italy.
Leaving our boat unattended on anchor for the first time
We decided to leave the boat unattended for the first time and visit Cala Fuili for some climbing and swimming. The climbing here is so much fun. Quick weather changes however is not so fun.
Emilie leading up a crag at Cala Fuili
While Fredrik was rock climbing, we noticed a small thunderstorm brewing. He hadn't learned how to secure the rope and remove the anchor at the top, so either Espen or I needed to climb up before we could depart. At the same time, waves were building up on the beach.
Christoffer and Emilie swam out to the dinghy. On as soon as the top anchor was down Espen joined Emilie and Christoffer. Fredrik and I struggled with the inflatable kayak amidst the waves, soon realizing it couldn't accommodate both of us. Consequently, I followed the others by swimming, while Fredrik paddled alone.
The dinghy, towing the kayak, made its way to the boat. Morten embarked on what would be tedious workout on the SUP board. Despite the large waves he and Oskar managed to reach the boat. I could see the fear in Oskars eyes as the boat rose and then crashed down on the massive swells. After several tries and a fall into the water, we finally got Oskar on board. He was a bit rattled but began to recover once he was in dry clothes and safe onboard. Morten paddled back to shore to retrieve Magnus, meeting Espen at the buoys, before returning for Ingunn.
"Is it going well? Or should I swim? asks Ingunn. They continue paddling the SUP towards the big waves. 'Yes, it’s going well Morten replies. The waves are big, and Ingunn notices it's a bit strenuous. 'Are you sure I shouldn’t swim?' she asks. 'Yes, it's probably best he admits.' So Ingunn swims over to Espen and Magnus, and everyone heads towards the boat. Morten is exhausted. Once on board, the family has had enough, and we take them to the harbour, agreeing to meet for dinner the next day.
We set course for Cala Luna and settle in for another rolling night, we had fun with a German boat using sign language from the deck. We waved, gestured to the rolling waves. They slapped their foreheads, shook their heads, and laughed. But it was a worth it, Cala Luna is truly beautiful at sunrise before the hordes of tourists arrive.
Cala Luna
Leaving the Boat on Anchor unattended for the Second Time
We had anchored off Cala Gonone once again, and, unsurprisingly, the boat was still rolling. After days of swaying at anchor, we were looking forward to an evening ashore. We showered, dressed up, and despite the tension in the air—five days of constant rocking can do that—we got into the dinghy, eager to meet the group for dinner.
That’s when the dinghy’s electric motor decided to stop working. We resorted to rowing in with waves crashing onto the beach. Christoffer, who jumped out easily, gave us a scolding for not leaving the boat sooner. I felt the pressure to hurry, so I jumped out—only to lose my footing and fall flat on my stomach into the water.
Scrambling to get up, I quickly realized that my dress wasn’t the only thing in disarray—both my breasts had popped out, much to the amusement of the sunbathers gathered on the beach. Soaking wet we headed for dinner.
Espen barely listens to Ingunn during the meal, distracted by his phone's anchor alarm going off repeatedly. Each time it beeps, it pulls his focus away. Meanwhile, I’m sitting there in a soaking wet dress, silently wondering how we managed to mess everything up so badly. Christoffer checks around the corner of the restaurant where we can see Yggdrasil lying at anchor. There's no sign that the boat has moved, but it's hard to relax. Did we turn on the anchor lights I ask Espen as dusk is settling in. No, he answers shortly. And do we have lights for the dingy? No.
We hastily finish dinner and rush off in the dark to deal with the light situation. Fifteen minutes later, we sit, a bit embarrassed, with the anchor light on, wishing we could have stayed longer.
Enough with the rolling!
The following day, we had enough of the rolling and steered eastward. We encountered a beautiful sailing breeze, complete with the earlier mentioned famous gusts ranging from 10 to 35 knots, making for an overall fantastic voyage.
"Look at that spray!" exclaimed Espen. "It must be a whale," and indeed, we were treated to the sight of a gray whale surfacing to breathe before its majestic back vanished into the ocean's depths once more. That evening, we found ourselves encircled by thunderstorms, yet they spared us, bringing only a drizzle.
We had the pleasure of joining Ingunn, Morten, Oskar, and Magnus for a farewell dinner in Cagliari. Thank you so much; we truly cherished the time spent together.
We need to cross now before the storm hits!
"Ehm, Espen," I say, lifting my head from being hunched over the weather maps. "The weather doesn't look very good going forward," I continue. "This is what I see. Picture the Mediterranean on a map. We are southeast of Sardinia, Italy, and heading to Menorca, Spain. South of us, weather is building up from Africa; these winds are called the Sirocco. The winds arise from warm, dry, tropical air masses that are pulled northward by low-pressure systems moving eastward across the Mediterranean Sea, with the wind originating in the Arabian or Sahara deserts. When passing over the Mediterranean Sea, the Sirocco picks up moisture; this results in rainfall called 'blood rain' due to the red sand mixed with the falling rain. To the east is the Strait of Gibraltar, where it also looks like the wind strength is increasing towards us, but nothing too severe. These winds are called the Levante. North of us lies the biggest challenge: the Mistral winds. The Mistral is a dry and cold northern wind that blows over southern parts of France and out over the Mediterranean. The wind often reaches storm strength, and it can blow from a few hours to over a week straight. Episodes of Mistral winds often occur in connection with cold fronts moving from north to south over France. Which is exactly what is happening now. The northern airflow is channeled out between the Alps and the mountains west of the Rhône Valley. Here, wind strength increases due to the funneling effect. I scroll through the app and show Espen a picture of what this will look like on Friday, and more or less for the week after that.
We have two choices Espen replies. We go tomorrow morning at 5 a.m. or we stay here for at least another week. Uncertain on what would be the best option we stroll along the pier towards town. Just a few boats next to us is Serendipity from Germany, the boat we met before the strait of Messina. They had decided to stay in Caligari for another week. "Have you seen the wave predictions" he exclaims when we tell them that we might cross over on Saturday morning. We look at the weather again, and yes we might get 30-35 knots of wind and some swell. But it does not look too bad. The systems are not so big. We also consult with my brother, though he would easily handle tougher conditions than us. He says go for it, and when the weather hits be prepared to lower the sails and jump into your foul weather gear.
So its settled, we are going.
At 5:30 am vi are on our way out of the harbour, having butterflies in the stomach and a lot of respect for the weather in the Mediterranean.
"LOOK, LOOK, LOOK!" shout Espen and Emilie, their excitement contagious. Finally, playful dolphins are surfing alongside us. They're so beautiful as they dart around the boat, with a few graceful leaps. They swam with us for 15–20 minutes, to everyone's delight. Then, as if the day couldn’t get more eventful, Espen gets hit by a flying fish. And once again he spots a sea turtle. Lucky bastard.
The crossing went above all expectations. We did have a lot of swell, outskirt of a few thunderstorms, rain and wind from 0 to 25 knots. And we now for sure that we did experience some of the Sirocco wind, having blood rain on our boat leaving a trail of red sand for us to clean.
Arriving in Menorca
WOW!! After a 32-hour journey, arriving in Menorca was nothing short of magical. As we sailed into the port of Maó, the largest natural harbour in the Mediterranean, the view was truly amazing. Spanning over 5 kilometers, this port stretches from the island's easternmost point like a welcoming tongue, leading straight to the gates of Maó.
This incredible harbour has been documented as far back as the 3rd century BC, offering sailors a refuge unmatched anywhere in the region. Over the centuries, the Phoenicians, Greeks, Rhodians, Phocaeans, and Carthaginians have all left their mark on this historic location.
On the southern edge of the estuary stands the remarkable San Felipe Castle, built in the mid-16th century, while to the north, the impressive La Mola Fort commands attention. Constructed in the 19th century under the orders of Queen Isabel II, La Mola is one of the largest fortresses of its time.
We are now on a well protected anchorage in Menorca as no ports had available berths. The anchorage is just on the starboard side of the entrance to the harbour and its crowded, beautiful and with mud bottom.
The kids will work on assignments on the history of this place and biodiversity and natural habitats as part of their home-schooling. And we have finally time to do engine maintenance.
Exploration of the island awaits!
-Anicke
If you find all this weather and climate changes as interesting and sad as me:
Mediterranean marine heatwave forecast to result in massive autumn rainfall across central Europe through mid-September (severe-weather.eu) Excerpt from the article:
The upper low moves towards central Europe and becomes negatively tilted by Sunday
This weekend, the general weather picture across Europe indicates a departing upper ridge over eastern Europe, extending over the Mediterranean. To the west, a large upper low gradually transforms and emerges with a large wave over the Atlantic.
By Sunday, the wave will become negatively tilted while sliding towards central Europe. A surface frontal system will move towards the northern Mediterranean and the Alpine region.
This will induce an unstable air mass over the region as strong warm advection combines with the warm Mediterranean Sea and will overlap with the jet stream winds aloft. Thus, strong wind shear will overspread the unstable air mass. A perfect recipe for severe thunderstorms will be possible, leading to intense rainfall, strong winds, and even tornadoes.
After the extensive and long-lasting heatwaves this past summer, the global seas, the seas around Europe, and especially the Mediterranean Sea have warmed significantly. A so-called marine heatwave is a new norm in recent years, as the seas have become extremely warm worldwide.
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