[Kyle]In the morning, we went out to find a Notary Public to witness signatures for our paperwork. It turns out Italy has no such thing. The very concept seems unheard of. What would have been a quick $10 errand in the U.S. turned into an all-morning affair. Initially, it was thought we meant we needed a Notario, which seems to be either a lawyer or a broker. Either would charge us hundreds of euros. No freakin’ way. We tried City Hall, where as an aside, we got to meet the Mayor. They suggested we go to the U.S. Consulate in Naples. I’m sure everybody there is a Notary, but I was not about to spend all day going all the way up there just to have a signature witnessed. We finally had luck at the Coast Guard. Since our paperwork was boat related and since they had been helping us along the way, we were finally given the equivalent signature and stamp.
We then went down the harbor to Footprint to give Luigi a tour and rundown of all of the systems that weren’t self-evident. We also left a set of keys. Their priority seemed to be to get the engine up and running, which had been partially submerged. Luigi seemed impressed by her systems and the equipment we had installed. We talked a bit (he speaks a little English) about where we had sailed her. He said he was sorry this had happened to us and we responded that we hoped he would do well with the boat. He seemed completely unconcerned with the mess. I suppose seeing a boat in that condition is much more normal for him than us.
As we walked away, we started off at a brisk pace like we always did for our cross-town commute. Then I realized we no longer had reason to return. I always knew it was a possibility, but I really hadn’t expected this when we showed up at the factory with the Big Check. We gave each other a hug, but quickly got moving again. Neither one of us was ready to let the dam break. I decided that even though all of the remaining business was all on paper and not to do with the actual boat, I would swing by one more time before leaving to check on her – the long-standing habits of the sailor.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Agropoli – Day 7 – 13 October
[Kyle]As we were preparing to go back to the boat and dive again into the mess, we got a call from our insurance man. He had sent someone to take video of Footprint as she came out of the water. We thought this was strange, as we had been emailing him detailed photos and descriptions at every step, and we hadn’t seen anyone taking video. It turns out there had been some technical problem preventing emails from going back and forth (since resolved). He said that based on what they could see of the condition of Footprint as she came out of the water, they had already declared her a total loss.
This apparently had a great deal to do with her location. She was a long way from any good repair facilities. She is too big to transport on Italian roads, so would have to be transported by barge. Once she did get to a yard, the cost of parts and labor in Italy is still very high. Even though the damage, though serious, did not seem too bad, it was not economically feasible to repair her. Had she been completely sunk outside a big yard in a third-world country, they probably would have been willing to practically rebuild her from scratch.
He emailed us the paperwork and said as soon as they got it back, they’d send us a check for everything except our personal belongings. Once the inventory of lost items in the boat was done, they’d send a second check for that. We have been amazed at the speed and calmness associated with our claim. At such a difficult time it would be even more stressful to be worrying about interrogations and arguments about value – Jackline and IMIS have been WONDERFUL, as has the agent they assigned to our case.
It was strange. Less than a week after setting anchor in Agropoli for the night, Footprint was officially gone.
Cataloging the losses, bagging the trash and laundry of what we can keep
We were in a daze of shock as we spent the rest of the day clawing through the wet piles of stuff on our former boat. We quickly gave up the idea of being able to get her cleared out as too daunting. Instead, we focused on taking photos of dripping electronics and stuck together books. Hardest for me were the charts and cruising guides. We had such a huge store of charts from so many places. We had made it to them all safely and now they were mushy and being photographed for evidence on a sand-covered floor. It seemed so unfair, so sudden.
Pasquale went with me to the boat with his car to pick up the last of the things we could salvage. He had a terrible cold, but still insisted on helping. He’s a really good guy.
In the evening, with Enzo acting as translator, our insurance company agreed to give Footprint to Bruno and his partner Luigi as payment for the recovery operation. What’s not cost effective for the insurance company surely will be for them. They can do the work in Agropoli at cost and own the yard space she sits in. They’re not 100% sure yet whether it will be better to strip her for parts or fix her up. She may someday float again, we hope so.
This apparently had a great deal to do with her location. She was a long way from any good repair facilities. She is too big to transport on Italian roads, so would have to be transported by barge. Once she did get to a yard, the cost of parts and labor in Italy is still very high. Even though the damage, though serious, did not seem too bad, it was not economically feasible to repair her. Had she been completely sunk outside a big yard in a third-world country, they probably would have been willing to practically rebuild her from scratch.
He emailed us the paperwork and said as soon as they got it back, they’d send us a check for everything except our personal belongings. Once the inventory of lost items in the boat was done, they’d send a second check for that. We have been amazed at the speed and calmness associated with our claim. At such a difficult time it would be even more stressful to be worrying about interrogations and arguments about value – Jackline and IMIS have been WONDERFUL, as has the agent they assigned to our case.
It was strange. Less than a week after setting anchor in Agropoli for the night, Footprint was officially gone.
Cataloging the losses, bagging the trash and laundry of what we can keep
We were in a daze of shock as we spent the rest of the day clawing through the wet piles of stuff on our former boat. We quickly gave up the idea of being able to get her cleared out as too daunting. Instead, we focused on taking photos of dripping electronics and stuck together books. Hardest for me were the charts and cruising guides. We had such a huge store of charts from so many places. We had made it to them all safely and now they were mushy and being photographed for evidence on a sand-covered floor. It seemed so unfair, so sudden.
Pasquale went with me to the boat with his car to pick up the last of the things we could salvage. He had a terrible cold, but still insisted on helping. He’s a really good guy.
In the evening, with Enzo acting as translator, our insurance company agreed to give Footprint to Bruno and his partner Luigi as payment for the recovery operation. What’s not cost effective for the insurance company surely will be for them. They can do the work in Agropoli at cost and own the yard space she sits in. They’re not 100% sure yet whether it will be better to strip her for parts or fix her up. She may someday float again, we hope so.
Agropoli – Day 6 – 12 October
[Kyle]The recovery coordinator Bruno arrived at 9:00am with another man (Niki) and two shovels and started digging out a path so Footprint could be towed into deep enough water for a diver to attach flotation. A much larger gasoline powered pump was brought aboard which emptied both hulls within twenty minutes. Footprint slowly leveled and rose to within a few inches of her normal waterline. The CG and the fishing/towboat arrived. It was a much easier matter to get the towline on with almost no surf to fight, and the fishing boat much closer to shore. With Footprint floating again, it took only the slightest pull to get her off the beach.
Digging out and floating Footprint
A diver attached 1000 kilos of flotation. With the petrol bilge pump running, the towline was shortened and Footprint was towed backwards the short ride into harbor. It’s weird, but I had the thought that it felt good to be at sea again.
The fishing boat tows Footprint away from the beach and into the harbour
Once near the crane, she was detached from the fishing boat and towed with a smaller workboat up to the craning slip. Straps were attached and she was hauled out and blocked. I was really surprised she was still strong enough to handle the stresses of being hauled out, particularly since the crane configuration put the straps far from the usual lifting points and the damage to the hulls at the usual lifting location. Amazingly the diver in charge of the flotation stayed in the water with the boat for the whole journey, only leaving once the buoyancy was removed at the dock on lifting the boat.
Finally Footprint makes it to the crane and out of the water
With Footprint out of the water, and the water out of her, we were able to finally get a good look at the extent of the damage. It didn’t seem to look as bad as I had feared. The port hull has two or three substantial holes caused by the rocks on the beach that first night. The port bow is crushed badly and the port rudder has been essentially broken off and in pieces, dangling by the last unbroken part. No obvious breach of the starboard hull can be seen from the outside, although there is still a huge crack at least half the boat length visible under both floorboards from the inside (with both sides of the crack clearly separated). The starboard rudder is still basically intact minus large chunks that were missing from the case. Both hulls, centerboards and rudders have large gouges in many places and, of course, little bottom paint remains.
Some of the damage up close, heartbreaking
In the interior, the most major damage visible were the long cracks in each hull under the floor. The battery compartment is a fused blob of corrosion. All three water tanks (2 main plus the hot) have come free. Sand is everywhere, particularly in the port bilge and stern lockers.
We spent the remainder of the afternoon cleaning out and cataloging all of the wet piles of debris inside and seeing what needs to be claimed for replacement and what might be recoverable to our growing store of things in the apartment.
Once it was too dark to work any more, we carried what we could across town to our apartment. We were all worn out and grubby and it felt like we had hardly made a dent in the mess. Still, our apartment seems to be suddenly full. We have only been able to save perhaps a third of the items in Footprint, but as I look around the apartment, I’m already wondering how it all fit in that little boat. Amazingly we have rescued and recovered all the important stuff, all that is damaged and lost is easily replaceable. We are very lucky indeed.
Digging out and floating Footprint
A diver attached 1000 kilos of flotation. With the petrol bilge pump running, the towline was shortened and Footprint was towed backwards the short ride into harbor. It’s weird, but I had the thought that it felt good to be at sea again.
The fishing boat tows Footprint away from the beach and into the harbour
Once near the crane, she was detached from the fishing boat and towed with a smaller workboat up to the craning slip. Straps were attached and she was hauled out and blocked. I was really surprised she was still strong enough to handle the stresses of being hauled out, particularly since the crane configuration put the straps far from the usual lifting points and the damage to the hulls at the usual lifting location. Amazingly the diver in charge of the flotation stayed in the water with the boat for the whole journey, only leaving once the buoyancy was removed at the dock on lifting the boat.
Finally Footprint makes it to the crane and out of the water
With Footprint out of the water, and the water out of her, we were able to finally get a good look at the extent of the damage. It didn’t seem to look as bad as I had feared. The port hull has two or three substantial holes caused by the rocks on the beach that first night. The port bow is crushed badly and the port rudder has been essentially broken off and in pieces, dangling by the last unbroken part. No obvious breach of the starboard hull can be seen from the outside, although there is still a huge crack at least half the boat length visible under both floorboards from the inside (with both sides of the crack clearly separated). The starboard rudder is still basically intact minus large chunks that were missing from the case. Both hulls, centerboards and rudders have large gouges in many places and, of course, little bottom paint remains.
Some of the damage up close, heartbreaking
In the interior, the most major damage visible were the long cracks in each hull under the floor. The battery compartment is a fused blob of corrosion. All three water tanks (2 main plus the hot) have come free. Sand is everywhere, particularly in the port bilge and stern lockers.
We spent the remainder of the afternoon cleaning out and cataloging all of the wet piles of debris inside and seeing what needs to be claimed for replacement and what might be recoverable to our growing store of things in the apartment.
Once it was too dark to work any more, we carried what we could across town to our apartment. We were all worn out and grubby and it felt like we had hardly made a dent in the mess. Still, our apartment seems to be suddenly full. We have only been able to save perhaps a third of the items in Footprint, but as I look around the apartment, I’m already wondering how it all fit in that little boat. Amazingly we have rescued and recovered all the important stuff, all that is damaged and lost is easily replaceable. We are very lucky indeed.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Agropoli - Day 5 - 11th October
[Kyle]We heard from the insurance man in the middle of the night, who is a Marine Surveyor. Based on our verbal account alone, he thinks the boat is likely a complete loss. He is planning on traveling to Agropoli as soon as he is able to make a better determination. We then did our best to document the damage photographically in order to give him a more complete idea of the extent of the damage.
Our day was spent recovering nearly everything from inside the boat that has not been obviously ruined. It is hard to move around the boat as so many items have found their way out of bags and cupboards and now float around mixed up together. Cleaning items mix with pens and surgical gloves and moving around the boat it is difficult to even see the floor and gauge correct footing. Once the boat is hauled all this stuff will finally settle and an even bigger clean up will be required. For now I made trips back and forth carrying backpack load after backpack load. Maryanne started on the long process of rinsing and drying everything.
Many of the recovered items were clothing, most of which have been underwater for a several days now. Our apartment has no washing machine but a fantastic giant sink and a selection of washboards to attach (lots of water, too!), with lines off of the balconies for drying. Washing and then hanging a load of laundry is going to be a several times a day ritual for the next week or so. {Maryanne: Enzo of course came to the rescue and allows us to use his machine anytime, there is also a local laudromat for the excess}
In the evening we went down the street with Enzo and Pasquale to Rifugio, their favorite local restaurant, for dinner. It is a one-man business run by their wonderful and friendly friend Alfredo. Half of the space is kitchen fully visible through a glass partition, the other half is taken up by the three tables. Alfredo made us a very large and delicious three-course meal of spaghetti and local seafood. During the meal Pasquale and Enzo would let themselves into the kitchen as necessary. There was lots of great, animated Italian going back and forth between the three chefs about the proper way to cook things. Food is very important to the Italians, we were happy to sit back and be entertained, distracted from the future for a while.
Alfredo serves our first course and Kyle enjoys a 'real' coffee (this is the full glass as presented and there must be enough coffee in there to make 20 Maryanne cups)
After dinner, we had coffee. In Italy, just a plain-old coffee is 2 oz. of super-concentrated coffee syrup; barely more than enough to coat the tongue. It’s taken fifty times a day at every available opportunity. I’ve really taken to it with a packet of sugar. It’s still way too strong for Maryanne’s taste, which is ½ strength instant coffee in the morning in a big mug. As a compromise, she ordered a Café Americano, which is, embarrassingly, a regular coffee watered way down. This took a whole committee of offended Italians to make and still it ended up too strong for Maryanne. I’m sure they’d be mortified at how she really drinks what she still calls coffee.
After dinner, the three of them engaged in a long debate about what is the best for Footprint. It was touching to see even the local restaurateur showing so much care and concern for our plight.
Our day was spent recovering nearly everything from inside the boat that has not been obviously ruined. It is hard to move around the boat as so many items have found their way out of bags and cupboards and now float around mixed up together. Cleaning items mix with pens and surgical gloves and moving around the boat it is difficult to even see the floor and gauge correct footing. Once the boat is hauled all this stuff will finally settle and an even bigger clean up will be required. For now I made trips back and forth carrying backpack load after backpack load. Maryanne started on the long process of rinsing and drying everything.
Many of the recovered items were clothing, most of which have been underwater for a several days now. Our apartment has no washing machine but a fantastic giant sink and a selection of washboards to attach (lots of water, too!), with lines off of the balconies for drying. Washing and then hanging a load of laundry is going to be a several times a day ritual for the next week or so. {Maryanne: Enzo of course came to the rescue and allows us to use his machine anytime, there is also a local laudromat for the excess}
In the evening we went down the street with Enzo and Pasquale to Rifugio, their favorite local restaurant, for dinner. It is a one-man business run by their wonderful and friendly friend Alfredo. Half of the space is kitchen fully visible through a glass partition, the other half is taken up by the three tables. Alfredo made us a very large and delicious three-course meal of spaghetti and local seafood. During the meal Pasquale and Enzo would let themselves into the kitchen as necessary. There was lots of great, animated Italian going back and forth between the three chefs about the proper way to cook things. Food is very important to the Italians, we were happy to sit back and be entertained, distracted from the future for a while.
Alfredo serves our first course and Kyle enjoys a 'real' coffee (this is the full glass as presented and there must be enough coffee in there to make 20 Maryanne cups)
After dinner, we had coffee. In Italy, just a plain-old coffee is 2 oz. of super-concentrated coffee syrup; barely more than enough to coat the tongue. It’s taken fifty times a day at every available opportunity. I’ve really taken to it with a packet of sugar. It’s still way too strong for Maryanne’s taste, which is ½ strength instant coffee in the morning in a big mug. As a compromise, she ordered a Café Americano, which is, embarrassingly, a regular coffee watered way down. This took a whole committee of offended Italians to make and still it ended up too strong for Maryanne. I’m sure they’d be mortified at how she really drinks what she still calls coffee.
After dinner, the three of them engaged in a long debate about what is the best for Footprint. It was touching to see even the local restaurateur showing so much care and concern for our plight.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Agropoli - Day 4 -10th October
The port hull damage extends in the surf
[Kyle]Waves and surf were much worse in the morning. A check on Footprint found her to be stable, but slowly suffering more damage. Wave action continued to sink her further into the sand, raising the water level inside. Cracks on the inside of the damaged port bow have spread all of the way to the bottom of the hull and back up the other side, leaving a large hole little material attached to the main hull, The port rudder could not be seen, but the damaged starboard rudder is no longer aligned with the fore-aft axis of the hull.
We finally get a quick walk around old Agropoli while Footprint still awaits moving
Enzo took us on a long walk of Agropoli to orient us. We bought me an Italian phone so I could keep in touch within the country. So far all Enzo’s leads for an apartment have proved dead-ends, today Enzo put us in touch with a wonderful elderly woman on the first floor who acts as the building’s matriarch. She made a couple of calls to absent tenants, Enzo haggled the price on our behalf and in no time, we were given a furnished apartment on the 5th floor for a month for the price of only a few nights in a hotel. Many of the apartments are currently empty since they are owned by city dwelling families who use them only during the summer own them.
On one of our trips to the boat, we encountered Bruno. He was swinging by to check on her. He told us that flotation had been found and as soon as the weather subsides, they plan to float Footprint and take her into the harbor for haulout.
The weather is predicted to be too bad now for the next couple of days, so it appears that our earliest opportunity for getting Footprint off of the beach will be in two to three days time.
We had lunch with Vincenzo and then gave him back his privacy by moving our little pile of salvaged belongings into a corner of one room of our capacious new apartment.
We returned to the boat to collect as much of the food as we could carry that was still good. I was surprised at how quickly our big kitchen filled up. How did we get all of that on the boat? We have, of course, been invited to yet another delicious dinner at Enzo’s, joined by Pasquale. Pasquale also speaks English, but not as well as Vincenzo. Between the four of us chatting, their English is getting better and we are learning a few new Italian words also. {Maryanne: better still we are learning how to prepare some real Italian dishes!}
Agropoli – Day 3 - 9th October
[Kyle]Checking on the boat in the morning, we had hoped to empty some water and recover more items to safekeeping. However it was clear that water was still rising in the boat as the boat sinks into the sand. Both hulls and the floor in-between were now flooded, almost to the seat of the sofa area. The batteries were underwater, and many items were floating around loose in both hulls. Water was entering the cockpit area from waves breaking on the side, and it seemed futile to empty water that would just replace itself.
We attempted to raise items out of further water ingress where possible and recovered more essential/critical items (as much as we could manage).
During this exercise several of the key players from the weekend recovery team stopped by and advised us that the owner of the beach property we were now laying outside of had complained that the lines were damaging to the property. Bruno had been passing by in the middle of the night, so he re-lead them all.
The aim for the day was to find accommodation and we are hoping for an apartment for the month (to find out later).
Based on information from the recovery team, the expectation was that the boat was to remain at its current site. On Monday morning a recovery attempt with floating pontoons (or balloons) will be made to the local harbor for haul out of the boat. From here we expect to wait for the surveyor before further decisions on repairs are made.
During the day, our little pile in Enzo’s spare room grew slowly. Enzo showed us pictures and told us stories from his 29 years as ship’s Navigator, most recently on a 240m LPG ship running between Alaska and Japan. He had fun practising his sights with our recovered Sextant, he's an expert since this is one of the many jobs he used to be responsible for in his merchant mariner days. The day ended with a film night at Pasquale’s and a dinner of lovely local takeout pizza from what they assure us is the best pizza place in town.
Agropoli – Day 2 - 8th October
Footprint close to the rocks, but still relatively dry inside & our new heros Pasquale and Enzo
[Kyle]With Footprint on the beach and us holed up in a local apartment it was already an unusual night for us. At 3:00 am, another thunderstorm passed, bringing in more large waves. Footprint could be seen being pushed much farther up the beach. The first thing on Saturday morning we checked on the boat and it was clear that it had some additional damage was visible from having the port hull dropped onto rocks protruding from the sand she had moved to.
First rescue attempt - the Crane
On visiting the coast guard at the appointed time they were especially helpful and offered to contact a local crane company to haul the boat – we accepted. The nearest access to Footprint was on a very narrow one-way road that would barely accommodate the crane. The crane somehow managed to arrive. Stabilizing arms were extended and lowered onto the adjacent concrete pad. The concrete structure began to crack under the weight of the stabilizing arm (before the boat was connected, this was just form the weight of the crane – even with wooden blocking to spread the load) – Possible claims (??). It was quickly decided the support structure they needed to lift from was hollow and not suitable. At this point the CG and the recovery agents decided to try and tow the boat either to the nearby harbor and haul out, or to an alternative (sandier/safer patch of beach). The boat had minimal water in the starboard hull and port water level was stable at about 2” above the floorboards (roughly equal to the water level outside) and was readily emptied with the manual pump. The boat was hard aground but still appeared to inch closer to shore and rocks on the impact of larger swells/waves.
The towboat used was a local fishing boat, presumably called by the CG or the recovery crew. He insisted we agree a price before he would move his boat to the scene. He asked for €1000 and we negotiated/agreed €900 (still to pay). At this point and throughout the day we were desperately hoping for contact with our insurance company. Without this help we had to make decisions as best we could for the sake of the boat and property and rely on expert advice from the Coast Guard and the recovery crew. Often this advice was at odds and they debated long and hard in Italian. The language issues hampered our understanding, but we had a very helpful translator with Vincenzo, who was selfless with his time for us..
Maryanne was requested to visit the CG to complete a report of extraordinary incident (the boat grounding), in order to authorize the tow. I remained with the recovery crew, who then began attaching straps around the circumference of the boat.
While Maryanne was at the CG, the CG commander reported that the weather was too poor for the tow and he refused permission, saying conditions were too hazardous. Eventually, when he checked subsequent day’s weather, he determined that it was only going to get worse. The boat was in a poor position (near rock and concrete structure), so it was decided it WOULD be best to move ASAP. Permission was granted and preparation was now focused on this.
Preparing the boat for tow, the CoastGuard, tow boat and tender arrive and so many people help get lines to Footprint from the towboat
The fishing boat arrived, which was much larger than we expected and could not get close to our vessel. A smaller open workboat arrived at the fishing vessel and picked up the end of a mile long steel cable on floats being fed out by the fishing boat. Towing the cable to shore was a long process. Once the workboat reached the surf, they were clearly having trouble keeping control against the pull of the heavy line. At one point, the man at the outboard engine was washed overboard, sending the boat spinning out of control until the man handling the cable was able to make his way back, stop the engine and pull the other man back aboard. One of the recovery team, Angelo, who was wearing a dry suit, waded out through the surf to help stabilize the workboat as it approached through the surf.
Once they were close enough, a long line was attached to the cable and it was disconnected from the workboat. Then about a dozen people, including crew, bystanders, us and the CG man in dress whites who kicked off his shoes and waded into the surf in his socks, pitched in pulling on the line until the cable could be attached to Footprint’s towing straps.
First tugs damaged the Port bow, and gave us better visibility of the damage to the hull
Once straps and tow harness were attached, the first pulls to turn Footprint bow to the water damaged the Port bow structure, caving it in badly above the waterline. It was still considered best by the teams involved to proceed and remove the boat from the dangerous area. There was much negotiation between the Coast Guard (supervising the recovery) and the Recovery team about responsibility, public safety, and pollution issues. This process did not go as smoothly as we had anticipated and took some time, all conversations were in animated Italian and we were grateful to be provided with occasional translations.
Should the tow be attempted, or should we wait for extra buoyancy to arrive? It was eventually decided that Footprint would be towed through the surf, and then a determination would be made whether to tow her into harbor or re-beach her (in an area the crane could reach) based on the rate of flooding. Holes in the port hull below the waterline that were accessible were stuffed with cloth (one of Kyle’s t-shirts) and sealant to slow the water ingress. As the boat was towed forward off the beach, both rudders were broken beyond their upper swing limits.
Slowly off the beach and afloat again, but after a long wait she begins to list
Once the boat was removed from the beach and afloat with me and Angelo aboard pumping, there was some time spent to determine if water was coming in faster than could be removed using with our electric pumps, manual pump and an additional electric pump. Eventually, it was agreed water was entering too fast, and the boat would have to be moved to a safer area of beach and grounded there. During this time, the port hull filled to about two feet above the floor. In the high winds, the towboat was having difficulty controlling drift. The configuration of the beach made it impossible to get Footprint to a crane-friendly spot using the mile-long line. Footprint was filling with water. I started Footprint’s engine, abandoned pumping and disconnected the drive leg steering lines. It was amazing it started with the batteries underwater after all three had been used to run the pumps. By using reverse and hanging off the stern manually steering the drive leg with my arm, Footprint was able to have some control against the pull of the slackened tow cable and be directed to a safe patch of beach. Water in the port hull reached the height of the bridge deck and started crossing over to fill the starboard hull. As the beach was approached, the engine was shut down and the drive leg was lifted. The tow cable was disconnected and Footprint was left to once again be driven onto the beach by the surf. It was a much too soon repeat of a bad experience. Lines were waded out and attached from shore. Another man from the recovery team joined us aboard. By bailing with buckets, we were able to get the water level inside to about half while every available hand ashore pulled the boat toward shore and as high up the beach as possible.
We finally secured the boat again with 3 lines to shore. The boat was now full with water in both hulls just below counter top height. The damage to the Port hull had extended.
It seems the entire town has taken us under their wing, particularly Vincenzo and his longtime friend Pasquale, who lives in the same apartment building. They have both been more than generous with their time and energy. We were invited to stay another night at Enzo’s (short for Vincenzo) and were treated constantly to his and Pasquale’s delicious cooking. We were introduced around the neighbourhood as we completed various errands. The boat was a problem to be solved and the reality of the situation probably not really impacting on us at this stage, the Kindness of our hosts and all the officials and strangers that helped today have been overwhelming and Agropoli will always hold a special place in our hearts despite the unfortunate circumstances that found us here for so long.
Agropoli – October 7th - Day 1
[Kyle]We left Palinuro without need of the engine. We ghosted out of the cove in light winds flying full mainsail and screacher. During the day, the winds gradually picked up. We stowed the screacher and unfurled the genoa, which later needed reefing. We arrived in Agropoli in the early afternoon. I was pleased that we’d had a fast trip. I had wanted to go ashore in Agropoli the last time we passed after anchoring in Paestum, but we were in a great hurry to get to Athens for my commute to work, so we had passed by.
This time, we wanted to anchor stern-to at the free dock in the main harbor. As we arrived, the wind was a difficult crosswind, but we persevered, and a local was there to help with the lines. Twice we set the anchor in the only available spot with significant scope, and both times it just ploughed readily through the soft detritus (seemed to be vegetable matter) – Ooze. As the anchor ploughed through, bubbles could clearly be seen rising – it was not solid enough sediment to set the anchor. Reluctantly we deemed it untenable for us. We looked at mooring options in the adjacent mooring field within the harbor, but all seemed to be for smaller vessels (too close together and flimsy and shallow). A nearby wall was clearly reserved for other boats… grr, no chance to visit now. With no other anchorages nearby, we checked out the cove to the east, which offered some protection from the southeast winds, and managed to get a well-set anchor in about 2.5m of water. We set 30m of chain and additional line for our bridle.
As the evening progressed wind was light but waves increased from the north with an approaching thunderstorm. It was uncomfortable enough that I was on watch for the anchor. The anchorage was rough, but we were well set and still holding well. In a very short time, the thunderstorm arrived, bringing heavy rain and lightning. The wind clocked around from the west, which we had some protection for, to the north, leaving us exposed. The swell turned into surf, breaking firstly behind, but quickly moving ahead of us. Around 10:30pm, the bow was hit with a breaking wave that pulled us sharply up and back. I immediately went outside to see if the anchor had broken free and found that we were quickly approaching the beach. I yelled to Maryanne that we were dragging and ran to the engine to lower our drive leg and start the engine. By the time I reached the key we were already too shallow and on the beach. We were aground on the rudders. There was a cracking sound on the next impact and they were kicked up. We then grounded on the rear hulls. At this point, we were hoping the anchor would reset and would hold us bow to the waves, sparing us any further damage. In a very short time, the surf turned us sideways and we started being dropped repeatedly on the sand on each wave. It was very quick and we were devastated.
We set to check the boat for leaks/damage. There was water in both hulls below the level of the floorboards and a very large crack visible from the inside of the starboard hull running almost its entire length. However, there was more water in the port hull. Given the situation we determined we should allow the boat to reach its highest point on the beach to minimize flooding and wait until the morning. Then we could consider kedging or other help and see if the boat would float in deeper water, and if so move to a haul out location as soon as possible. A few people stopped in their cars, a couple of which tried shouting over to us. We couldn’t understand the Italian over the rain and thunder, but it seemed to be along the lines of “It’s shallow there.”
We reported our situation to Agropoli Radio. Soon locals and officials began arriving, and eventually the Coast Guard insisted we MUST leave the vessel, and report to the office at 8:30am the following day. We secured the boat using three of our 50m lines run to secure points on shore to keep the boat from being washed back out to sea with the help of the CG and locals that had come out to help and left the anchor to aid. A friendly local (Vincenzo), who spoke good English, translated for us. Once the boat was secure, everyone began to leave. We were planning to wander the town looking for a hotel. Vincenzo told us to follow him. We assumed he was going to help with front desk translations, but instead he offered us accommodation in his apartment for the evening for which we were very grateful. We also would be able to keep and eye on the boat from his balcony window.
We contacted our insurance agent at this opportunity, as it was still business hours in the U.S. and were advised to protect the boat as best we could (which obviously we would want to do regardless).
We set up for the night in a spare room with Maryanne sleeping and me looking at Footprint through binoculars. When I got too tired, we switched off or grabbed 20 minutes together. We could hardly sleep at all, even though we were completely exhausted.
This time, we wanted to anchor stern-to at the free dock in the main harbor. As we arrived, the wind was a difficult crosswind, but we persevered, and a local was there to help with the lines. Twice we set the anchor in the only available spot with significant scope, and both times it just ploughed readily through the soft detritus (seemed to be vegetable matter) – Ooze. As the anchor ploughed through, bubbles could clearly be seen rising – it was not solid enough sediment to set the anchor. Reluctantly we deemed it untenable for us. We looked at mooring options in the adjacent mooring field within the harbor, but all seemed to be for smaller vessels (too close together and flimsy and shallow). A nearby wall was clearly reserved for other boats… grr, no chance to visit now. With no other anchorages nearby, we checked out the cove to the east, which offered some protection from the southeast winds, and managed to get a well-set anchor in about 2.5m of water. We set 30m of chain and additional line for our bridle.
As the evening progressed wind was light but waves increased from the north with an approaching thunderstorm. It was uncomfortable enough that I was on watch for the anchor. The anchorage was rough, but we were well set and still holding well. In a very short time, the thunderstorm arrived, bringing heavy rain and lightning. The wind clocked around from the west, which we had some protection for, to the north, leaving us exposed. The swell turned into surf, breaking firstly behind, but quickly moving ahead of us. Around 10:30pm, the bow was hit with a breaking wave that pulled us sharply up and back. I immediately went outside to see if the anchor had broken free and found that we were quickly approaching the beach. I yelled to Maryanne that we were dragging and ran to the engine to lower our drive leg and start the engine. By the time I reached the key we were already too shallow and on the beach. We were aground on the rudders. There was a cracking sound on the next impact and they were kicked up. We then grounded on the rear hulls. At this point, we were hoping the anchor would reset and would hold us bow to the waves, sparing us any further damage. In a very short time, the surf turned us sideways and we started being dropped repeatedly on the sand on each wave. It was very quick and we were devastated.
We set to check the boat for leaks/damage. There was water in both hulls below the level of the floorboards and a very large crack visible from the inside of the starboard hull running almost its entire length. However, there was more water in the port hull. Given the situation we determined we should allow the boat to reach its highest point on the beach to minimize flooding and wait until the morning. Then we could consider kedging or other help and see if the boat would float in deeper water, and if so move to a haul out location as soon as possible. A few people stopped in their cars, a couple of which tried shouting over to us. We couldn’t understand the Italian over the rain and thunder, but it seemed to be along the lines of “It’s shallow there.”
We reported our situation to Agropoli Radio. Soon locals and officials began arriving, and eventually the Coast Guard insisted we MUST leave the vessel, and report to the office at 8:30am the following day. We secured the boat using three of our 50m lines run to secure points on shore to keep the boat from being washed back out to sea with the help of the CG and locals that had come out to help and left the anchor to aid. A friendly local (Vincenzo), who spoke good English, translated for us. Once the boat was secure, everyone began to leave. We were planning to wander the town looking for a hotel. Vincenzo told us to follow him. We assumed he was going to help with front desk translations, but instead he offered us accommodation in his apartment for the evening for which we were very grateful. We also would be able to keep and eye on the boat from his balcony window.
We contacted our insurance agent at this opportunity, as it was still business hours in the U.S. and were advised to protect the boat as best we could (which obviously we would want to do regardless).
We set up for the night in a spare room with Maryanne sleeping and me looking at Footprint through binoculars. When I got too tired, we switched off or grabbed 20 minutes together. We could hardly sleep at all, even though we were completely exhausted.
Palinuro Revisited
Leaving Stromboli and back to Palinuro again
[Kyle]On the way back north from Stromboli, we made landfall once again at the pretty cove just to the south of Capo Palinuro. The place had a totally different character from our last visit in July. Although the weather was sunny and still warm, there was only one other boat in the anchorage as opposed to twenty or so the previous time.
The beach that was packed before now only had four or five people, including one woman who sunbathed for the entire duration of sunlight.
We were tired from the overnight passage, so we called it an easy day, which we spent reading, napping, eating and enjoying the view.
Friday, October 07, 2011
Stromboli Island and Volcano
[Kyle]When we had passed by Stromboli in July, even though it was peak season, the weather had been bad for days. Stromboli doesn’t have a harbor, so visitors are forced to pick up a mooring in the open sea next to the island (or put down an aweful lot of anchor chain). Any swell, even if the weather is calm, makes the place untenable.
This time, the seas had been flat for days. The moorings at Stromboli were chock full of chartered sailboats, each with the maximum number aboard. Ferries dropped off people by the score a couple of times an hour. The island had a real “cruise ship day” feel.
It is illegal to climb Stromboli above 400m without a guide, so we had pre-booked ourselves a guided trip to the viewing area at 918m. We were told to show at 3:30pm, and made it ashore a couple of hours early to get a bite and have a look around. We found a pizza place and sat down. Only then did we find out there was no pizza for lunch. This worried us, as pizza is the only economical food in Italy, but we were hungry, so we had a delicious meal of non-pizza Italian food. It cost us three pizzas.
Around Stromboli
We had our bag packed for the big hike, minus the water. I didn’t want to carry it around all day and I figured we could just buy 3 one and a half liter bottles. Everywhere we went; a great plan but all of the stores were closed for Siesta until 4:00. Damn! We ended up sucking it up and buying three from a restaurant for another pizza.
At 3:30, we went to the hiking shop, where we were told we were checked in, come back at quarter to five. Then the shops opened. Then the town filled up. On Stromboli, there is really only one thing to do: Climb the volcano. Everybody in town was there to climb the volcano. All of the tours were pretty much the same. They left in the afternoon so they could do most of the climb in the daylight, but get you to the crater just after dark, which makes the magma more visible and dramatic. Then you descend in the dark. There were hundreds of people milling around with backpacks, hiking boots, walking sticks and helmets waiting for their mini-group of twenty or so to leave at ten-minute intervals. It felt like being a cow in the first act of a documentary about steak.
[Maryanne]There are numerous 'climb stromboli' companies in Stromboli, and tourism is the only remaining industry really in the town after the grape crops were destroyed by invading insects and 90% of the population emigrated to Australia way back in mid 1900s. We chose MagmaTrek, and soon discovered they had a sensible but strict dress code for the hike. This included 'proper' walking shoes. I've never been able to find a pair of those shoes that don't bruise my ankle and leave me in agnoy within an hour of using, so I simply don't wear them.. that was going to be a problem. Kyle rented a pair of hiking boots from a different store, and eventually I got permission to use the shoes I prefer, but only if I also had long trousers to go with them. I figured my 7/8 length trousers would probably be OK, but didn't want to get in to trouble so checked out the local hiking goods store. Hmmm... minimum price was about €100 for a pair of trousers. Yikes. I found a sale basket, but none of the items there were my size. A little negotiating with the owner found me the 'last pair' of bright fuchsia trousers for just €35. I took them. They went great (?!!?) with my sky blue top (at least Kyle wouldn't lose me!). So off I set for my hike in colourful clothes and anticipatory mood.
[Kyle]Our little group seemed to be mostly Germans and Danes. The climb itself was drudgery. It wasn’t particularly hard since the pace seemed to be set for people less fit than us, but there was none of the opportunity to enjoy it. Maryanne and I probably would have taken about the same amount of time to get to the top, but we would have stopped more to admire the view, look at something interesting or take pictures, hiking faster in between. With a group, this wasn’t possible. The track was single file, which meant if you stopped to take a picture, everybody behind you stopped as well. Everybody then would have to catch up. With ten-minute spacing, it was stressed to us that we all had to keep from getting spread out. Looking around while walking was bad too. Invariably you would trip. For me, the walk ended up being three hours of watching the feet in front of me. Moo.
There was a strange optical illusion on the climb. When I looked around at all of us climbing, we looked like reasonably fit people climbing a big hill. When I looked at Lorenzo, our guide, he was clearly walking at a third of the speed. Climbers: normal, Lorenzo: slow; yet he was always in front. He was so obviously going as slow as he could bear. We were all taking big steps over rocks and panting and sweating and he looked like he was accompanying an elderly hospital patient down the corridor while holding the I.V. pole.
The Hike up Stromboli Volcano (and then down in the dark)
Just after our last stop to change the I.V. bag before the top, we finally got a view of the lava vent below. We came around the corner just as it erupted with a boom, followed by the sounds of the new, semi-cooled rocks raining down on the ground. It sounded like a dump truck unloading rocks onto a concrete slab. We all stopped and fumbled for our buried cameras. Lorenzo said to keep moving, the view was even better from the top, where we could look right down into the crater. Maryanne was quick and just managed to get a photo. I’m pretty sure she was the only one.
At the top, we were all lined up single file along the crater rim. The volcano had been especially active lately. Tours were suspended in July and August. There were still concerns about safety, so instead of the usual hour, tours were only allowed 25 minutes at the top to minimize the danger. The advice we were given in the event of a larger than normal eruption was to keep doing what we were doing. Keep our eyes open, watch the flaming boulders and just duck out of the way if one comes near. Maryanne calls it Whack-a-Mole in reverse.
As we stood there, clouds moved in and mixed with the smoke coming out of the crater. We saw a few feeble flashes of light, accompanied by booms, jet engine and dump truck noises, but never got to see an eruption. The best we got was when the orange part of the cloud got noticeably brighter and louder, then a patch of noxious gas wafted our way. Lorenzo snuck us an extra ten minutes, but it was obvious there would be no clearing soon.
We turned and headed down the mountain on a steeper, faster route using our headlamps to light the way. The path had us sliding down a field of sandy ash in a motion like cross-country skiing that advanced us two steps worth of distance for every one taken. This part would have been very difficult without a guide and a string of lights to follow to make sure we exited the field on the trail and not a cliff.
Further down, below the vegetation line, the trail had worn a groove a meter deep. The sides were so high, we could only see to the next corner. It felt like being a brook winding its way through the reeds.
At length, we stepped onto pavement and descended into the town. We dropped off our helmets and found a place with a really, really nice pizza that we split. In the next room, a very large group of Italians were being led in a sing-along, Irish pub style. It made for a nice end to the day.
[Maryanne]It was terribly disappointing to be looking down into the volcano and hear these great explosions booming so close to us while not being able to see them due to the cloud that rolled in just after we arrived. We had such high hopes for a spectacular show based on the recent high activity and explosive booms our guide said were unusually loud. I briefly considered suggesting to Kyle we hike up the following evening but was glad I dismissed as it seemed just as cloudy the following day. We did have five minutes of clear viewing and saw directly some of the more minor eruptions, and were lucky enough to capture the one bigger eruption on the hike up. At each rest stop the guide, Lorenzo, talked a little about the history of the volcano, the island and its inhabitants. Atop the mountiain as we peered down hoping for the cloud to clear we were joined by the local bats chirping away - now that I didn't expect!
Over the last couple of weeks we've been submersed in volcano expeditions and have seen so much up close that to this point I'd only ever seen on TV documentaries. It really is fantastic to be so close to the quirks and forces of nature unknown in docile, safe England.
We now leave the Aeolian islands and head back to the Italian mainland - I hear they have the odd volcano there too...
This time, the seas had been flat for days. The moorings at Stromboli were chock full of chartered sailboats, each with the maximum number aboard. Ferries dropped off people by the score a couple of times an hour. The island had a real “cruise ship day” feel.
It is illegal to climb Stromboli above 400m without a guide, so we had pre-booked ourselves a guided trip to the viewing area at 918m. We were told to show at 3:30pm, and made it ashore a couple of hours early to get a bite and have a look around. We found a pizza place and sat down. Only then did we find out there was no pizza for lunch. This worried us, as pizza is the only economical food in Italy, but we were hungry, so we had a delicious meal of non-pizza Italian food. It cost us three pizzas.
Around Stromboli
We had our bag packed for the big hike, minus the water. I didn’t want to carry it around all day and I figured we could just buy 3 one and a half liter bottles. Everywhere we went; a great plan but all of the stores were closed for Siesta until 4:00. Damn! We ended up sucking it up and buying three from a restaurant for another pizza.
At 3:30, we went to the hiking shop, where we were told we were checked in, come back at quarter to five. Then the shops opened. Then the town filled up. On Stromboli, there is really only one thing to do: Climb the volcano. Everybody in town was there to climb the volcano. All of the tours were pretty much the same. They left in the afternoon so they could do most of the climb in the daylight, but get you to the crater just after dark, which makes the magma more visible and dramatic. Then you descend in the dark. There were hundreds of people milling around with backpacks, hiking boots, walking sticks and helmets waiting for their mini-group of twenty or so to leave at ten-minute intervals. It felt like being a cow in the first act of a documentary about steak.
[Maryanne]There are numerous 'climb stromboli' companies in Stromboli, and tourism is the only remaining industry really in the town after the grape crops were destroyed by invading insects and 90% of the population emigrated to Australia way back in mid 1900s. We chose MagmaTrek, and soon discovered they had a sensible but strict dress code for the hike. This included 'proper' walking shoes. I've never been able to find a pair of those shoes that don't bruise my ankle and leave me in agnoy within an hour of using, so I simply don't wear them.. that was going to be a problem. Kyle rented a pair of hiking boots from a different store, and eventually I got permission to use the shoes I prefer, but only if I also had long trousers to go with them. I figured my 7/8 length trousers would probably be OK, but didn't want to get in to trouble so checked out the local hiking goods store. Hmmm... minimum price was about €100 for a pair of trousers. Yikes. I found a sale basket, but none of the items there were my size. A little negotiating with the owner found me the 'last pair' of bright fuchsia trousers for just €35. I took them. They went great (?!!?) with my sky blue top (at least Kyle wouldn't lose me!). So off I set for my hike in colourful clothes and anticipatory mood.
[Kyle]Our little group seemed to be mostly Germans and Danes. The climb itself was drudgery. It wasn’t particularly hard since the pace seemed to be set for people less fit than us, but there was none of the opportunity to enjoy it. Maryanne and I probably would have taken about the same amount of time to get to the top, but we would have stopped more to admire the view, look at something interesting or take pictures, hiking faster in between. With a group, this wasn’t possible. The track was single file, which meant if you stopped to take a picture, everybody behind you stopped as well. Everybody then would have to catch up. With ten-minute spacing, it was stressed to us that we all had to keep from getting spread out. Looking around while walking was bad too. Invariably you would trip. For me, the walk ended up being three hours of watching the feet in front of me. Moo.
There was a strange optical illusion on the climb. When I looked around at all of us climbing, we looked like reasonably fit people climbing a big hill. When I looked at Lorenzo, our guide, he was clearly walking at a third of the speed. Climbers: normal, Lorenzo: slow; yet he was always in front. He was so obviously going as slow as he could bear. We were all taking big steps over rocks and panting and sweating and he looked like he was accompanying an elderly hospital patient down the corridor while holding the I.V. pole.
The Hike up Stromboli Volcano (and then down in the dark)
Just after our last stop to change the I.V. bag before the top, we finally got a view of the lava vent below. We came around the corner just as it erupted with a boom, followed by the sounds of the new, semi-cooled rocks raining down on the ground. It sounded like a dump truck unloading rocks onto a concrete slab. We all stopped and fumbled for our buried cameras. Lorenzo said to keep moving, the view was even better from the top, where we could look right down into the crater. Maryanne was quick and just managed to get a photo. I’m pretty sure she was the only one.
At the top, we were all lined up single file along the crater rim. The volcano had been especially active lately. Tours were suspended in July and August. There were still concerns about safety, so instead of the usual hour, tours were only allowed 25 minutes at the top to minimize the danger. The advice we were given in the event of a larger than normal eruption was to keep doing what we were doing. Keep our eyes open, watch the flaming boulders and just duck out of the way if one comes near. Maryanne calls it Whack-a-Mole in reverse.
As we stood there, clouds moved in and mixed with the smoke coming out of the crater. We saw a few feeble flashes of light, accompanied by booms, jet engine and dump truck noises, but never got to see an eruption. The best we got was when the orange part of the cloud got noticeably brighter and louder, then a patch of noxious gas wafted our way. Lorenzo snuck us an extra ten minutes, but it was obvious there would be no clearing soon.
We turned and headed down the mountain on a steeper, faster route using our headlamps to light the way. The path had us sliding down a field of sandy ash in a motion like cross-country skiing that advanced us two steps worth of distance for every one taken. This part would have been very difficult without a guide and a string of lights to follow to make sure we exited the field on the trail and not a cliff.
Further down, below the vegetation line, the trail had worn a groove a meter deep. The sides were so high, we could only see to the next corner. It felt like being a brook winding its way through the reeds.
At length, we stepped onto pavement and descended into the town. We dropped off our helmets and found a place with a really, really nice pizza that we split. In the next room, a very large group of Italians were being led in a sing-along, Irish pub style. It made for a nice end to the day.
[Maryanne]It was terribly disappointing to be looking down into the volcano and hear these great explosions booming so close to us while not being able to see them due to the cloud that rolled in just after we arrived. We had such high hopes for a spectacular show based on the recent high activity and explosive booms our guide said were unusually loud. I briefly considered suggesting to Kyle we hike up the following evening but was glad I dismissed as it seemed just as cloudy the following day. We did have five minutes of clear viewing and saw directly some of the more minor eruptions, and were lucky enough to capture the one bigger eruption on the hike up. At each rest stop the guide, Lorenzo, talked a little about the history of the volcano, the island and its inhabitants. Atop the mountiain as we peered down hoping for the cloud to clear we were joined by the local bats chirping away - now that I didn't expect!
Over the last couple of weeks we've been submersed in volcano expeditions and have seen so much up close that to this point I'd only ever seen on TV documentaries. It really is fantastic to be so close to the quirks and forces of nature unknown in docile, safe England.
We now leave the Aeolian islands and head back to the Italian mainland - I hear they have the odd volcano there too...
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