The morning is hazy as we leave Lastovo. It almost looks as if there is some fog a little farther offshore. The sea is a flat calm with no wind at all. This is a welcome relief from the storms of the past few days; we had expected there to be some waves but all that activity seems to have died down completely.
We reconcile ourselves to motoring the 60 miles to Vieste but in the afternoon the wind picks up and we get to sail at seven or eight knots for about three hours.
Is she cool or what?
As a non-EU boat, when you go from one country to another in the EU you have to check in at a “port of entry”. This is where they have customs etc to handle all the formalities that wouldn’t exist if the EU was really one country. So we park in the marina; I go to the coastguard and say “I would like to check in”; they say “You can’t do that here”.
It turns out Vieste (the ideal entry and exit point for Italy-Croatia sailing) is NOT a port of entry. Oops! I’m usually good at checking this kind of thing. All I can say is that I was lulled into a false sense of surety by all the blogs and the websites saying that this was the best route to take.
We have to go to Manfredonia Lori thinks that this is a name somewhat like Genovia (from the Princess Diaries) and she expects a matronly Julie Andrews to appear at any moment. But she doesn’t.
In fact, there are not many people or boats at all in this large and modern marina. We say to the the marinero that we need to check in. He says that we can do it here, but they’re closed. In fact, they’ll be closed for the next two days. This is a problem because we are not supposed to leave the boat if we haven’t checked in. Two days stuck on a boat in a ghost marina is not appealing.
The marina staff have a good idea. We get an agent to handle our paperwork (for a fee). Offices that were closed can now be opened and progress can be made. We never see the customs folk but two of the nicest coastguards visit the boat to check that there is indeed only two of us and that we don’t have any stowaways in our anchor locker. Everything is done crisply and efficiently. We are free to wander the town.
Manfredonia is a bit down-at-heel like many towns in southern Italy that haven’t benefited from the tourist trade. But it’s bustling at night with people enjoying their evening stroll along the main pedestrian ways in the old town. The limestone blocks that surface the streets are polished smooth by centuries of people doing just what we are doing now - walking, talking and enjoying the cool of the evening before a leisurely dinner.
Fish tonight (no goat to be found) at a recommended restaurant in a quiet little courtyard. It offers some interesting menu twists - this is “Fish and chips”.
Squid, octopus, calamari and homemade potato chips
In the morning we head for Trani. I had always wanted to visit because it is supposed to be one of the nicest harbor towns on this coast. And it is. We get to sail again for the third day in a row - beautiful winds perfectly angled to speed us along at over eight knots.
There are times when sailing has some of the characteristics of golf. Many less good days can be erased by one good experience. Trani is a good day. The harbor is small. We are the largest boat in the harbor. While this is good for the ego, it’s otherwise a little tricky. In order to the largest boat moored in the harbor, you first have to moor IN the harbor.
Our space is narrow (or we are chubby) and there are literally only a few inches on each side. The turning space is also small. But we manage it in an easy motion without even nudging the boats on either side. The marinero says “Beautiful”. We try to make it look like this happens all the time.
As I said, a lot like golf.
The town and the harbor are lovely with a great sense of the harbor being the heart of the little place.
Who IS this woman who keeps getting in my photos? I'd complain but she is quite cute.
The fishing boats are in port and the fishermen are selling fresh fish from tables at the back of their boats. If we knew what to do with any of this stuff, we would have some wonderful dinners.
Instead we opt for a little osteria which serves up some wonderful turbot and tuna (doubtless from the same boats) with a white wine from one of the vineyards near Brindisi.
The next day is another sailing day on to Polignano a Mare - a marina we last stayed in two years ago. The marinero remembers us - it helps to be a real American boat with a catchy name. Or it’s our scintillating personalities. The problem with this marina is that it’s little bit out of town but we are just passing through and will eat on board tonight. The great thing about this marina is the marineros and their level of service. They are polite, attentive, knowledgable and extremely helpful. This is not a common thing.
The final leg of this trip is back to Brindisi but we run out of luck with the wind and have to motor sail the whole way. It’s a longish day without much interesting to look at.
When we park in our boatyard we we normally lie alongside and, in preparation, we fender up accordingly. But when we get to the marine, “our” berth is occupied by another boat and there is no-one to be seen. We circle a bit and try raising them on the VHF - no reply. We circle a bit more and some of the yard folks emerge. They point farther down the opposite pontoon and indicate that we should go stern-to. This is another tight fit, True Colors is a big girl. It also involves a heroic change of fender and line configuration by Lori while I am trying to line us up for a sharp right turn in reverse into our mooring. We put this into action.
Halfway through they say, we wanted you to come alongside…… Grrr! But it’s too late to make another line and fender change, so pragmatism wins the day and we park stern-to. It’s the first time I’ve done this here. I rely on Lori who says we’re “fine” (I’m beginning to like her definition of “fine”) at the front (i.e. back) while I manage the pointing and slowing down.
Soon we are snug (or as snug as we can be here) and settle down for a few days of work arising from our extended sea-trial and waiting out the strong winds that have started to blow down the Adriatic again.
We are in familiar territory with people who recognize us. Lori demands pizza.