Monday 13 November 2006

To Tunisia

Sicily 2006

01 August 2006. Picking out Capo Orlando through the background haze had been rather difficult. We had picked up the headland of Capo Orlando, and therefore had a rough idea where the harbour should be. The GPS and chart plotter told us where it should be, but we couldn’t find it, the huge concrete breakwater wall round the outside, blended with the background and the usual tell tale signs of masts were missing. As we got closer we finally started picking out what looked like masts, which then revealed what looked like the entrance. We had been warned of a sandbank in the entrance from the pilot book and by Eva and Hokan, so we approached with caution. Finally we picked out what looked like a navigation bouy in the open entrance to the harbour, binoculars confirmed it as a green cone shaped starboard marker. We hadn’t seen one of these since entering the river Seine at Honfleur. Sara had been dispatched to the chart table to find out which side we should pass, before we applied logic and remembered which side to pass starboard marks on, our confusion had been caused by how far back from the harbour wall the marker was. The entrance was about two hundred meters wide, and the bouy was indicating that over half of the entrance was not navigable. As we came past the outer breakwater we realised why it had been so hard to pick up masts, apart from the fact that most of the boats were either motorboats or small sailing boats, the breakwater wall was approximately 5 meters high, and because of the sandbank most of the boats were moored along way from the wall. Eva and Hokan were easy to find, there was a boat with a Swedish flag, with two people waving their arms about, and blasting an airhorn, fortunately there were no other people living on their boats.

Sara did the deck work of getting the fenders and mooring warps ready and I looked for suitable mooring spots, while keeping an eye on the depth. Our intentions must have been confusing to onlookers as a man appeared and waved us into the spot where Eva and Hokan were moored, then proceeded to start untying them. We eventually got it all sorted and headed off to the beach for a swim and rounded off the day at the local pizzeria.

Well that’s not entirely true, we got round to discussing where we were going next, had some beers, looked at charts, had some more beers, Africa seemed very close, has some more beers, discussed the possibility of sailing to Africa, then went to bed. In the morning while off buying some bread, I discovered that the romance adventure of sailing to Africa had got hold, we arrived back at our boat with plans forming. When we informed Hokan that we were off to Africa, he signed up to the idea, and we were doing a cruise in company to Africa!

Two days later at 10:30 on 3rd of August we motored out towards Cefalu. Eva and Hokan were worried that we would go to fast, we spent the day watching them disappear ahead of us in the light winds of the Med. We arrived at the new Harbour to the east of Cefalu, to find the marina full, some boats had anchored in the harbour and taken long lines ashore, we managed to find a spot moored bows to the quay, close to the hydrofoil landing stage. There was a swell which came into the harbour, which got exacerbated by the hydrofoil coming in and out, which caused Dreamcatcher to continually surge backwards and forwards, even with the rubber damper on the lines.
Getting on and off was a bit of a struggle, not always helped by the children deciding to be awkward. We found ourselves holed up for four days while weather systems blew in from the West. The day before we left the surging got so bad that it snapped the rubber spring on the bow line, and ripped off both starboard bow cleats. We were not the only boats holed up because of the winds, most people heading west were taking shelter, however some boats were still heading towards us out of the east. We watched one of these boats make slow progress towards Cefalu and finally they made it in, we helped the three chaps on board tie up, and exchanged greetings, about an hour later we noticed that the chaps had been joined by three women, it transpired that the women had always been on board, but for what ever reasons did not deem it necessary to help out in the tying up, cleaning down or stowing of the sails. The next day the behaviour was slightly more bizarre.

I was up on deck checking fenders and things, when I noticed that one of the female crew on was perched on their coachroof facing our boat, I was separated from this lady by the distance of half of our combined side decks and a fender, while she sat in a pair of shorts using a lady shave on her legs, this was not a problem, however when she janked her leg up and started doing her bikini line, I retreated hastily to our cockpit, where I found Sara trying hard to stifle her laughter.

The town of Cefalu is very nice, medieval town, approached by a walk of about a mile round the headland. It has some newer bits largely sprawling off along the beach. The roads were narrow and cobbled, with occasional glimpses of the sea. The town has suffered earthquakes in the past, most noticeably to us in the church, where the old bits are few surrounded by new repairs. The church has a lovely setting, set between high cliffs on one side, stone buildings on the other, and a large piazza in front, apparently the tomb of the legendry Diane is located to the top of the cliff.
The town still has a medieval laundry, set down some steps, where the tubs have been carved into the gently sloping rock floor. The spring water enters at the top, then flows into successive tubs until finally making its way out through the rocks to the sea, occasionally the water from a larger than normal wave would push its way back into the laundry. The children were not slow in removing their shoes and socks to go paddling in the tubs, but I beat them to it, the water was lovely and cool, quite refreshing after the walk into town.

While making our way back to the Piazza, we encountered the local Brass band, which had been doing a concert in the Piazza the day before, marching round the town. The children wanted to join the followers, and we did, following the band round the old town as we all headed back to the Piazza in front of the church.

The day before our departure we did an expedition to the new bit of town to find a supermarket. We found Eva and Hokan, in a Café across the road from the supermarket, and we joined them for a coffee and ice cream. I went into the shop to help the children choose their ice creams and ordered two little ones, the assistant kept heaping ice cream into the cups, after the third spoon I realised my Italian had let me down, once more I expressed my wish for small ice creams, where I was told in English that they only did one size, I had visions of another national debt clearing bill similar to the one in Rome, the bill for two ice creams bigger than the kids heads, two coffees and two beers was a bit over E10-00. No wonder the place was full of locals.
On the way back to the boat after shopping we saw a plane coming down to scoop up water from the sea to fight the bush fire on the hill behind us. Anxious locals who gathered in a piazza to watch the progress of the fire as it moved towards houses on the hill. Then that evening I saw a Search and Rescue Helicopter practicing outside the harbour. It was getting far to hectic, time to move.

7 August 2006 We left the harbour at 10:00 into light winds and proceeded to motor sail towards Capo Gallo. An hour and a half later, we were all getting fractious, it was hot and the light winds meant the engine had been on continuously which wears down, there followed a discussion about my choice of sails and the course we had chosen, as Ingalan was disappearing in front of us.
Lunch time was a relief, melon followed by cheese, followed by a cheese being introduced to peoples thighs and faces, and giggling children.
To break up the monotony of motoring, Nick helmed for twenty minutes, then so did Phoebe. However Phoebe found it hard to helm and eat her melon. We then had a MOB, Melon Over Board, which improved her helming.
By 17:10 we were had made progress of 25 miles, and were passing Capo Mongerbino, about 6 mile east of Palermo, I was down below cooking supper, when were joined by four dolphins, 3 Common and 1 Rossou’s. The kids and I went forward to the Dolphin nose while Sara helmed and watched them play in our bow wake.
17:23 I returned to the galley, leaving the kids on the foredeck with the dolphins to find that supper is now burnt, but we didn’t mind. Phoebe who had spent the day missing her friends in Salina and at home, had been bending our ears about how horrible it was living on a boat, and how she wanted to go home, but when I put the question to her during supper and post dolphin encounter, I was informed that a girl is allowed to change her mind.
19:33 Arrived at a marina, and tied up to the pontoon at Baia D Mondello. We all dived into the warm sea, and swam round watching the sun set. Later that evening we were joined by Eva and Hokan as we walked into the town, there was a permanent fair ground with dodgems, we let the kids go on by themselves, which they loved, Nick was so excited when the ride ended, that he jumped out of his dodgem with his ‘seatbelt’ still on, got it caught round his feet and ended up in a heap, with a grin so wide I thought his head was going to come off. Eva and Hokan spoilt the kids by buying them more tokens, saying that as they didn’t have any kids with them they would treat our instead, a tired and happy crew found their way back to the boat, a lovely end to what had started out as a horrible day.

08/08/06 A slow start to the day saw us leaving at 12:15 after being charged an extortionate amount of E50:00 for one night mooring, determined that we will try anchoring more. Eva and Hokan do not anchor, they are not confident in their ground tackle, and are not sure about things like scope, so we feel obliged to tie up with them, tying up has its advantages, easy access to shore and shops, possibly water and electricity, but with the amount of motoring we are doing, batteries going flat is not an issue. But we will stay tying up, but if the charges continue at this rate or get higher, we will anchor.
The passage round to Castellamare was beautiful rugged rock headlands full of cliffs and crags off set from the sea by dry scrub land. Again it was motoring most of the day, but the log reads 16:27 Course 213T Speed 6.3knots, Main and Jib only A GOOD SAIL AT LAST!!!
16:46 Who turned the wind off?
We persevered and got a good wind as we approached the harbour, for a change we were in front on INGALAN, and I was enjoying the sail, I could see the harbour was large and clear, with ample room to drop the sails in the shelter inside, so we sailed kept he sails up as we sailed into the harbour, it felt fantastic, gave me a sense of pride and achievement, helped even more b the radio message from Ingalan, saying how good it looked to see us sailing into the harbour.
While dropping the sails, the radio crackled back into life, for us to hear a worried Hokan asking for assistance as he had got a rope on his prop that had stopped him, we acknowledged, and said we were on our way as soon as we had got the sails stowed. Shortly afterwards the radio started again, it was a very relieved sounding Hokan, he had put his engine into reverse, and the line had fallen clear.
We managed to squeeze ourselves into yet another impossibly tight berth, and watched the moon rise over a beautiful stone town, before retiring to bed, while Eva and Hokan went into town.

09/08/06 Up early, unable to get the weather forecast off Channel 68, and rely on the forecast from the day before.
07:15 Oil topped up, Stern gland loosened, Tea made, flasks filled
07:47 Engine on lines dropped, as we exit our berth using warps and springs, it feels good. We are going slowly, slower than we should be going.
07:55 Having untangled the lazy line that had got tangled round our fender we could now continue with our departure.
It was a cool cloudy morning, the tops of the mountains were trying to tear holes in the grey clouds as they scudded past. Still to much interference to get a weather forecast, there is some wind, up goes the main and mizzen. We leave the motor, as we watch the weather, I want to get the main up but Sara wouldn’t let me. We start picking up gust of wind coming down off the mountains, we decided to see what the wind is like once we clear Capo Sant Vito before we raise any more sail. We clear Capo San Vito, the next piece of land to the west of us is Spain, the wind has got stronger, the waves have got bigger, and we are going like a train smashing through the waves, unfortunately it is like a train towards Sardinia not Marsala. WE get on the radio to Ingalan to advise them to have their sails reefed before they clear the headland, to be informed that they have no sail up and are thinking of putting in at Capo Sant Vito. We have a discussion, we are fine, but the crew in Ingalan will have a horrible time if they continue, we go about to head back. Dreamcatcher did not like the change of course, and protested by blowing out the mizzen below the first reef. With the jib reduced and the mizzen reefed we were soon in the shelter of Capo San Vito. We were waved to a berth, which took us two attempts to get into. After tying up I went below to tighten up the stern gland. My adrenaline levels shot up as I found engine room flooded with oily water, we had a leak! I quickly found the problem was the stern gland that had not been lock off, had come loose, I could feel the cold water pouring in, it was soon back on and tightened up.
We were in a mess, the water was up to the floorboards, the gearbox was under water, which meant it had probably filled with water, and the water was oily, there was no way we could pump it out with our bilge pump without polluting the whole harbour. I went and found the marina staff and tried to explain the problem asking if some one had a large pump. I was told they would find someone. A bit later a bloke turned up a small hand pump for emptying the residual amounts of water out a motorboat. The problem got explained properly once I had dragged the chap from the marina into the boat and showed him the engine room. He set off saying he would go find a man. About half and hour later he returned saying he had found an mechanic who would come that afternoon to have a look, when I asked how much this would cost, I was informed he would come have a look for E100-00.

If I had been having a bad time up until then ,things got worse, I lost it, E100-00 just to come have look, I started shouting about them all being Mafiosi, and waving my arms around, this was probably not a good thing to say only 40 mile away from Palermo. Sara was trying to get me to calm down and be quiet, but I was not in the mood, I was being extorted. Hokan in the boat next door was laughing away and talking to me. Finally he managed to get through the argument and explain that the E100-00 was the estimate for pumping out the boat. The chap from the marina left with a bemused expression on his face saying the mechanic would be here at 15:00, undoubtedly quite convinced that the English are mad.
I spent the rest of that afternoon thinking about, the implications and how we were going to deal with this problem. Three o’clock came, no mechanic, a marina hand appeared came and said the mechanic would be there at five o’clock, and go I go to the office and pay. I walked up to the office to find something resembling a scene from the Soprano’s, their were four Uncle Juniors sat round a table in nylon tracksuits bottoms and mismatched shirts, playing cards, one bloke trying to relay the wooden floor boards while being given instructions from the Uncle Ju’s and four other assorted mismatched blokes who were hanging around. I was beginning to regret my Mafiosi comment, however there were no concrete slippers or sleeping with the fishes for me.

The mechanic duly arrived at 5 o’clock, however he could not get his truck with the pump down the jetty, so we had to move the boat across the harbour to the fuel berth. With an engine and gearbox underwater, I did not want to use the engine. The solution, Marina chap #1 offered to tow me using his motor boat. We duly rigged fenders and got lines ready, as he came between the moored boats. IT had been a tight squeeze going in, it was going to be tighter getting out. I was expecting him to tie up alongside our quarter, from where he could push and pull, and turn, but instead he took lines to both stern cleats. Good idea there was not going to be enough room to turn us both, so he was going to pull us out, then come alongside. No I got that wrong as I discovered as he pulled us out, it was his intention to tow us backwards, down the length of the pontoon, and then across the harbour. We had people running up and down our deck, and the decks of the other boats as we went past, fending off like demons, as I was fending us off a nice shiny new boat flying a British ensign, the bloke who was stretched out in his hammock from the mast to the forestay, lifted his head in mild curiosity from his book, but did not bother to offer assistance, or even fend us off from his boat, I couldn’t resist the temptation and called that this is what happens if you don’t pay your fees. Finally we were out from the pontoon and in the empty harbour, then the tow stopped , ten tons of boat did not, more fenders, more shouting, if I hadn’t been my boat involved I probably would have enjoyed watching the spectacle.

Then I discovered that we were not going alongside the fuel berth as I thought we were, they were going to try a Med, Stern to, mooring, the anchor was dropped , and we managed to get a line ashore, with Sara on the foredeck doing the anchor, I was left to pull us in. My back was giving me a lot of pain and I couldn’t do it, Sara was summoned to assist. We were soon moving towards the fuel berth, where a group of Italian males were stood, one of whom had been yelling at me in English to pull the boat in, once I passed the pulling over to Sara, he stood there muttering away to his mates while pointing at me. I pointed at Sara and said ‘She’s good isn’t she? I can tell you where to get one.’
That got him muttering that he didn’t need one, he could do his own pulling.
Once again I had opened up the first impressions with the locals score at minus.
Finally we got moored up, and a huge industrial drain clearing sucker got moved into place, 1000 litres later, we were dry. I could now do a preliminary inspection of the engine and gearbox. The gearbox was full of water, but on the plus side the engine was still okay and started first time.
We retired below, other yachts entering the harbour, seeing us on the fuel pontoon, tied up, and soon there was a collection of four other boats tied to the fuel pontoon.
We got woken by a lot of shouting, a fishing boat had come in and this was his spot, we all had to move and go to the marina, we tried to explain about the engine and gearbox, but all this did was make him shout some more, finally an angler who had been there when we first moored up managed to explain to the trawler man, and he went off muttering, and collapsed back into bed.
I was woken at 1 o’clock by Sara, she was convinced something was wrong, she went up and had a look, another trawler had tied up to the first and his bow was directly above our deck on the Starboard side, and he was moored on our port side, his bow passing through the triangle created by the forestay and the main mast. We got another line and were trying to decided how to get ashore to pass it back to the jetty, when Trawler man #1 appeared, on the deck of the trawler on our starboard side, that was just what we needed. But he was a changed man, he understood our circumstance, he took our line and made fast it fast, told us not to worry about a thing, and if we had any problems to call him and he would come help.

The following morning, Fuel Berth, was back, he had learnt his English while living in America, so I was surprised to find him telling us we had to go to the marina. Once again I explained about the gearbox and engine, he was not having it, we had to move as he had a big boat coming in for fuel, and he was going to need the whole jetty, even though we were tied up right at the end. His suggested we get our friends to move us, I explained that we had no friends with a b oat capable of towing us into a marina spot.
He could ask the harbour master to tow us. Great could he do it, well yes he could but it would cost E1000-00.
This was beginning to get stupid. Sara and I discussed our plan, we would cast of the lines and shorten the scope of the anchor, moving us into the middle of the harbour, while I continued to flush and replace the gearbox oil. As we were doing this, Fuel Berth appeared again, to ask what we were doing, so once more we told him, to be asked in an incredulous voice, ‘Your engine does not work?’

We rode at anchor in the harbour, while I continued to sort the gearbox, and Sara dealt with all the enraged small boat fisherman, who now had to make a slight turn to get round us, I now know ‘Machinca Non Funczione’, while not strictly the correct Italian it would have communicated the problem. At last a bit of wind came up, and we put plan ‘B’ in to operation, we unfurled the jib got it drawing while we pulled up the anchor and sailed out of the harbour to anchor up in the anchorage outside. Sailing off the hook is a skill to learn, but doing it for the first time in small harbour, with a uncertain auxiliary propulsion unit, is incredibly satisfying. If it started going wrong we were prepared to either drop the hook wherever we were pr sail back to Castellamare, where we knew we could anchor in the harbour.

We spent the next three days at anchor, going ashore in Bob, trying to find ATF for the gearbox and swimming in the sea. We hired a car and drove to Trapani, on a quest for a Tunisian courtesy flag, and took the cable car up to the village of Erice, a World Heritage site, built on top of a hill. The village had fantastic views across Sicily and towards the Egadi islands, but the cable car ride was worth every penny. The cable car is lit at night and must be a really good aid to navigation, as during our crossing to Tunisia it was visible a good thirty five miles off.

13/08/06 I was happy to give leave, the engine seemed okay, the forecast was good, at 09:15 we raised the anchor and headed towards Marsala, making sure we got lots of sea room as the coast there has teeth, lots of them made of red jagged rocks, it was not an area we wanted things to go wrong on. Sara went below and called a course to steer, it was not right, it had us heading for rocks. I went to check what was wrong, the course appeared to be right, cross checking to paper charts, it still seemed correct. Going back into the cockpit to check the compass, and remove any metal objects from near the compass, we found the problem, Nick’s Geo-Mags were found next to the compass, we watched the compass correct itself by twenty degrees. Once this was sorted we were off having a cracking sail under main, jib and reefed torn mizzen. We saw a squall heading our way and started reducing sail, when we were nearly T-Boned by an overtaking French Catamaran, we yelled and waved then took evading action, to greeted by a shrug and a point at his burgee, obviously different collision regs apply in the Med.
After this little incident we had a lovely nearly event free sail, running before the wind to Marsala. Ingalan had motor sailed off into the distance while we continued with our sailing, when we got a call over the VHF, Ingalan had a steering failure, we set course to rendezvous, and once there stood by ready to offer assistance. Their steering cables had come loose, but it they resolved it, and we carried on tying up at 18:20. That evening Dreamcatchers crew took walk round Marsala, it felt like we had arrived in Africa, weathered sandstone walls and palm trees. We returned via a Gelateria, and fell happily asleep.

14/06/06. We took the opportunity, while we were close to some shops to reprovision. We found Marsala as an uninspiring town, with unusual if not plain weird statues. While Sara and Eva sat in their cockpits completing home made Tunisian courtesy flags, I prepared and cooked Calamari for lunch then got some sleep ready for our night passage.
At 18:15 we dropped our lines and under main and jib we set off towards Africa. During our last night passage Nick had stayed in the cockpit, so Phoebe was determined to do a night watch, when she woke up at about 22:30, I told her that she had been entered up as being on watch, and she went below to her bunk. During the crossing we stayed close to Ingalan, and it was strangely comforting to have anther boats lights keeping you company. At 01:30 while keeping our plot up to date, I noticed a strange luminance coming from the galley, it was the waste from the Calamari which we had been keeping for Nick to use as bait for fishing. It was duly disposed off over the side, and the bowl left on deck to be washed up once the smell had dissipated.
06:00 The light at Cap Bon was sighted and identified, and half an hour later we had our first sunrise in Africa. At about 10:00 we got caught in a bit of a blow, we hove to and rode it out, arriving at Kelibia at 13:00. Customs formalities we quickly dealt with, no doubt speeded up by Sara choosing that moment to wash up the calamari bowl.
Kelibia is a fishing harbour, full of the smells of diesel and fish, where big wooden fishing boats are built and repaired. The harbourmaster changed some money for us, at a favourable rate, and we took a taxi into the town. While in a shop getting more provisions, the shop owners young son, gave Phoebe and big hug and then proceeded to help carry the shopping basket round the shop. I went across to a British flagged vessel, and started talking to the owners, Brian and Christine. They had done a slow circumnavigation, and had settled in Sicily, spending their summers cruising to round Tunisia, Malta and Sicily.
We found the Tunisians to be friendly and they all seem to love children, not thinking twice about picking up our kids and hugging or kissing them.

!7/08/06 We set off towards Yasmine Hammamet, we encountered an uncomfortable swell in the shallow waters outside the harbour, and headed offshore to find some deeper water and easier swells. WE then had a pleasant sail towards Hammamet, rounding Beni Khiar at 15:45, to see what looked like a pirate ship heading towards us. As we passed by each other, we could hear the music blaring, as the crew danced away doing their best to give the tourists a good time. Shortly afterwards we got a call for Ingalan, saying they were nearly at the harbour, which surprised us as we had not seen them go past us. Half an hour later as we were preparing to enter the harbour at Jasmine Hammamet, we got another call, Ingalan could not find the harbour, it turned out that the co-ordinates in the Med Almanac were incorrect, and Ingalan was trying to sail into the Medina at Hammamet three miles behind us.

The error was attributable to the wrong co-ordinates in the Med Almanac, we settled in the kids were more than happy, there were bouncy castles being set up about 50 meters from our berth. During our stay here we hired a car to check out El Kantaoui as a possible winter mooring, as we had heard stories about the atrocious winter conditions at Yasmine Hammamet, and took in El Jem, an incongruous place to find an almost intact Roman amphitheatre, it seems to rise, as does the small town surrounding it from the very earth itself, with no logical reason for it to be there, it is the last Roman Amphitheatre built, it is an amazing building, used for concerts in summer, but still with access to its underground gladiator cells. We had told Nick that they were there, and he ran round trying to find the entrance, which we knew when he had found it, by the great shout of joy, which would have been heard over the baying crowds of 30,000 which El Jem would have held in its heyday. We got the kids imaginations going by pointing out marks on the walls and telling them they were made by the lions before going up into the arena, what a great place to play at being lions and gladiators, the smell of the hot dust, and the sight of the tiers enclosing you, gave an almost tangible feel to its history.

On our return we told Eva and Hokan that we were going to be moving on to El Jem, as they had a place for us to over winter, finally the wind eased and we took got ready to leave, sail covers off, electricity unplugged, engine started, or it should have done, all we got was a click. Kill switch was checked, battery charge was checked, everything was okay. We had not escaped from our flooding after all, the started motor had seized, it had been fitted new in England before we set off. I set to removing it, I undid the studs that held it in, it would not move. I retightened the studs holding the cover on, and found the correct studs, swore a bit to myself, at both their location, and the fact that I did not have an Allen key big enough. I spent most of the day trying to fashion a key out of what I had on board, as there did not appear to be anyone locally who could supply one, my efforts were futile, I went to the harbourmasters office to see if they could tell me where to get one, and they let me the one they just happened to have in their draw, this made the job a lot easier.
The starter was dully removed, the water poured out of it, stripped cleaned, and then I tried to reassemble it. This seemingly simple job was complicated by having nothing to depress the springs on the bushes, I would get three depressed only to have them spring free before I could get the new ones in. Pop rivets came to the rescue, and so it was on the afternoon of the second day I found myself in the engine room, with temps outside of 35C, trying to align a heavy motor suspended by ropes from a pole, with so much sweat soaking through my trousers, they could be wrung out by the time I had finished. After about an hour of struggling I discovered that a couple of screwdrivers through the back of the holes the studs went in lined it up perfectly. At last it was refitted, wires connected, engine start button pushed, nothing. Note to self, when fixing a starter motor don’t forget to clean the solenoid. Remove starter clean solenoid, refit, job time now down to one and half hours, and improvement over one and a half days. Try again, the engine started, I was to tired to get excited it was now 11 o’clock at night, as I backed out of the engine room, I bashed into a shelf knocking items off it, fortunately all tied on with bits of string, and among all these items was an Allen key, of exactly the right size to remove the starter motor.

The next day the weather had changed and it took us another week before we finally got to El Kantaoui, but not before on checking out of Hammamet, we discovered we did not have the right papers, when we left Kelibia, we had been giving Ingalans duplicate documents, it required a fax from Kelibia to allow us to continue. Getting a fax required finding the official with the keys to the cupboard where the fax machine was kept, then three people to plug it in and get it working, although this was amusing, it brought home the relevant affluence of Europe, where fax machines are in every office, and receiving and sending fax’s are parts of peoples daily routines.

.El Kantaoui is a purpose built resort, surrounding the marina. Fresh fish and vegetables can be purchased from the medina at Sousse, and bread cost 3p/loaf. I found it necessary to make two trips back to England whilst in El Kantaoui, trying to sort out the insurance claim ,and visiting doctors. We also managed a sail to Monastir, with my mum and Dad who had come out to visit us for Nicks birthday. On the way back from Monastir with the cruising chute up for the first time, my father who was helming fell asleep whilst stood up, it says a lot for the balance of Dreamcatcher under the cruising chute, that we continued to track straight and true, until the kids woke him up with their shouts.
Whilst in Monastir we went to the Rabat, the one used in ‘The Life of Brian’ and other films, to discover they were making a documentary dealing with the evolvement of writing, and it had been set up as a town at about the time of Christ, with the actors all in appropriate costumes, it was the only time we didn’t have to get Phoebe and Nick to use their imaginations.
Shortly after our trip to Monastir, we all returned to England, in order for me to start some new treatment for my arthritis. So we left Dreamcatcher hoping to return in three months time and continue our adventures, we were away for nearly six months, and on our return we were no longer as free as we had been when we set off.