Shaken and Stirred on the way to Sicily

From my last post you will know that we were on the last leg of our journey back to Sicily. We had another early start; leaving the comfort of Rocella Ionica, Porto delle Grazie – Appropriately named the Port of Thanks – and we were thankful for having been there, if only briefly.

Overnight oats – a good start to the day.

We were keen to complete the 60 odd miles to Sicily so that Ian could watch the rugby. He had to spend all 12 and a half hours of the crossing avoiding any possible inadvertent news about the results, especially as we had a fairly decent signal the whole way.

We spotted many pods of dolphins en route which helped alleviate the boredom somewhat. We were treated to acrobatic displays and a mother and tiny baby came to play on the bow. I was in full dolphin speaking mode. Squeaking and whistling in what I hoped they would interpret as appreciative comments and encouragement about their beauty, ability, speed and agility.

In the end, although we motored for a few hours. The wind picked up from the south. Predicted to be 7kn turned out to be 15kn gusting 20+kn – I told you that is what happens to wind forecasts. Always add more.

Consequently, the waves in turn began to pick up and were meeting tidal currents heading south down the Messina Straits so there was some confusion where they met. The sea was lumpy and we were rolling up one side of a wave, parallel with it, and sliding down the other side. Quite an interesting motion.

Anyway, we were at least sailing and saving on fuel.

The speed we were making through the water was good and it meant that we would arrive in Taormina in day light.

We approached the breakwater to the south of the bay, a place called Giardini Naxos. We began to prepare to go in under engine as normal in order to anchor off.

Ian was looking forward to watching the rugby, I was looking forward to a glass of wine and we were both looking forward to a good sleep after several long days with pre-dawn starts.

We furled the head sail. Put on the engine and readied ourselves to drop the main sail.

Suddenly, I detected a slight change in the note emitted by the engine. Normally a reassuring A Flat this time it had dropped a semi-tone, and then, again. I looked around quizzically at Ian to see if he was responsible for this change. But no, he had not adjusted the throttle.

In the next few seconds, the sound of the engine slowly dying came to both of our ears. I sank to the cockpit seats with my head in my hands! Melt down inbound!!

Ian started barking orders.

We put the head sail out again but only partially. We put the main sail down. The wind backed the genoa and pushed us round in a complete circle. I winched in the sail nice and tight. It began to propel us towards that anchorage.

I went up to the foredeck to prepare that anchor. I untied it and lowered it to the sea level.

I then went back in the cockpit in case we needed to tack to better position ourselves.

We continued straight into the bay. We knew that as soon as we went around the breakwater there would be a lot less wind. We could see five or six other yachts in prime positions tucked in round the breakwater. We didn’t have much choice. We kept going as far in a possible until we had no further forward momentum. Ian furled the head sail in again. At that point I dropped the anchor slowly so that the wind could push us back and I could lay the chain as straight as possible. Although the depth was only 9 metres, we weren’t sure about holding here and would not be able to test by reversing, so we lay 50m of chain for added security.

At this stage, dear readers, you may be forgiven for thinking that we are on some masochistic path but I promise you….if I could stop this happening, and, we could afford it, I would, I so totally would.

And, I can honestly state that I have no interest in one-up-man-ship, either. ‘What? You have only moored under sail once?….Pah! We’ve done it four times!!’

No, I want a boat that works consistently, every time and presents me with no trauma.

On the other hand, now that I have done it three times, either I care a lot less about what happens to the boat (Hmmmm! Let me consider that possibility!) or, simply because we’ve done it so often, I have more confidence that we can do it! It doesn’t help me be any less terrified though.

Immediately, we knew what had caused the failure of the engine…because of all we learnt in Naxos 2017. It was down to debris from the bottom of the diesel tank having been shaken and stirred whilst we crossed the bumpy, lumpy waves.

Ian’s first check was the filters. And, yes, indeed, they were full of gunk.

He changed both primary and secondary filters and we tested the engine…

No joy. Following advice given to a fellow MDR boat, Quench, we used a bicycle pump to successfully push a blockage down the pipe and back to the tank. Ready to case havoc on another day?!

Happily, the engine started after this and we felt so relieved.

(We know will have to get our fuel ‘Polished’ very soon, which involves pumping the fuel out, filtering it properly and cleaning the tank before putting it back in.)

We did all this in the most rolly anchorage we have ever been in. We were both a bit green around the gills and covered in diesel after our efforts.

We brought ourselves round with a quick shower and delicious lemon chicken, peas and carrots, oh, and some wine and chocolate. And finally Ian managed to watch the rugby.

We had a calm, if slightly rolly night and the next day George Rizzo from the buoy field to the north came to see us. We explained our predicament and he offered to collect some fuel for us. He told us that the north buoy field was still too uncomfortable in a southerly wind and that we would be better where we were. The wind was due to change mid afternoon the following day so we planned to move then.

In the meantime, we went ashore and did some shopping in preparation for the arrival of David Heane.

We went ashore to a bar to fetch him at about 2100h. Obviously, a beer or two had to be taken.

We arrived back at the boat and had a bit of supper with David before bed.

Apparently, the anchor alarm went off twice in the night but I heard nothing, so deep was my sleep.

Next morning, we prepared to move to the north but George advised us to stay put. Suddenly, the wind started to pipe up from the north rather earlier than expected. It was gusting at a regular 35kn. We started the engine, but nothing happened. What???? It had been fine yesterday.

Ian changed the filters again. They were still collecting more gunk.

He tried to start the engine again. But, no joy.

We phoned George who kindly offered to find us a mechanic, who would be with us at 1730h. We had then to sit out the ferociously gusting wind with no engine, worrying about whether we would drag anchor, as we watched various other boats dragging about to the south of us. Poor things. Luckily, we held tight.

Sebastiano the mechanic came and had the engine running again in a few minutes….air in the pipes. Like magic.

He came with us as we motored north to the buoy field. All was good.

We were soon tied up and I was feeling hugely relieved. And so it was time to go ashore for dinner.

Next day, we took a trip up to Taormina and Castelmola which was a fab day out on dry land.

Only a week to go until we get back to our winter berth and it can’t come soon enough!

Next time, read about our trip back through the Staits of Messina and on to Gaeta, Italy.

Brindisi and Beyond

A little bit of Black Sheep Wine!

We had a further visit from the mechanic on Saturday morning but when he couldn’t fix things immediately he was understandably anxious to get on with his weekend. We went to the boat yard to pay the bill, at their request, as they were probably concerned that we would abscond with our new starter motor.

On Monday Angelo arrived about midday. He began to do some tests just as Ian had done, following valuable advice from friends on Marina Di Ragusa Liveaboards Facebook page and the No Foreign Land App. Thank you all!

We concluded (using Google translate!) that the solenoid was kaput, the fuse was kaput and the ignition switch was kaput; all due to a corroded wire falling on to the engine and causing a short.

It was our good fortune that we already had the ignition switch in our spares supply and Angelo was able to source the solenoid and fuse easily. Some vital support came from Vito Capriati (An electrical engineer) who happened to be visiting the boat next door and knew Angelo. Very kindly, he came to assist and he knew his stuff! (Tel:- 3384352279)

Literally, the moment that everything had been checked and re-tested we were ready to slip our lines. We needed to get to Otranto and a late departure meant arriving and anchoring in the dark.

Luckily, we had been in here before so we had some idea of what it looked like, but approaching somewhere, even when you know it like the back of your hand in the day light, presents a whole new set of challenges when you do it in the dark.

The first challenge was negotiating all the small amateur fishing boats that come out in force in good weather. At one point, in our immediate vicinity, I counted twenty five of them…and that’s just the ones that were properly lit!

The second challenge was identifying the lights of the harbour and the surrounding lighthouses.

Usually we can see the lighthouses more easily as they are often stuck on the end of a promontory or cliff in the middle of nowhere. There is an extremely clever system with light houses. They have a specific flashing signal pertinent to them in that location. So, on Capo d’Otranto to the south of Otranto the lighthouse is labelled on the chart as Y FL (1) 5s 60m 18nm

This means that it flashes yellow once every five seconds, is 60 metres high and visible from 18 nautical miles off shore.

Once we had honed in on that we culd begin to focus on the light bloom that was shining from the city. You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to mistake traffic lights or car tail lights for harbour lights against the millions of lights given off by a town at night.

In the meantime, we had the traffic separation scheme to negotiate as we entered. This is devised to ensure that traffic entering and leaving do not do so on the some course.

As we neared our harbour for the night we were able to make out the flashes from the red (port) marker on the end of the huge breakwater. R Fl 1 3s 11m 8nm. (Flashing red once every 3 seconds from a height of 11 metres and visible from 8 nautical miles away.)

To the north of the harbour is a very clever ‘sector light’. This glows red for only a few degrees of its arc. If you approach from a dangerous angle, ie: towards rocks between the sea and the shore, then you will see the red light, if you see the yellow light then your approach is safe from that angle.

By now, we had seen all the major lights and could begin to head into the bay. We spotted the starboard hand marker which indicates the channel to take towards the marina or town quay. We peered with scrunched up faces into the gloom of the anchorage. We managed to focus sufficiently to see four, no, five, no six! anchor lights. We followed our previous track from last time we entered on the ipad navigation software, Navionics. Lo! and behold, we were able to find a space to anchor only metres from where we were in June. We dropped the anchor in 7m of water and put out 35m of chain. We were holding well when we tested the anchor by reversing.

That was at 2110h – by 2130h we were sitting down below eating spaghetti carbonara and drinking a well earned glass of wine!

The next morning we were up early and went ashore to have a quick wander around the old town of Otranto. Clearly a place that the residents take great pride over. It was very bonny place with amazing views out over the marina and bay.

By 0930h we had weighed anchor and set off to Santa Maria di Leuca further south.

Cape of Santa Maria di Leuca

Another fairly big day. We anchored off the marina in 5m of water and luckily had enough wind to hold us into the swell so it wasn’t too rolly until the wind died and that changed.

Red bean, lentil and fava mini burgers served warm with toasted garlic alioli

Having checked the weather we decided that the wind would be more favourable if we waited another day here. I even had time to rustle up these yummy vegan polpetini.

However, in the morning Ian double-checked the forecast. Tomorrow’s forecast was now for 28kn of wind. And, as we sailors know only too well – there is always at least 10 knots more that forecast. So, we upped the anchor and set off at a pace.

Luckily, the wind was at the perfect angle for sailing and with the waves helping us too for a split second of our crossing of the bay of Taranto we were scooting along on the crest of a wave at some 17 knots!!!!!

By 1600h the sky had grown increasingly dark and menacing! We put the navigation lights on, so dark was the gloom! Was that a squall? We put our electronic items in the oven as forks of lightning were cleaving the waves around us.

We had already brought the genoa in but had a full main up. We both put on our waterproofs. Then BANG! The wind came; the rain came. I kid you not, it was biblical!! If frogs had bounced on to the deck I would not have been surprised. Ian could hardly see for the water pouring down his face. We had 20m visibility around us. The thunder and pounding rain drops were deafening.

We had put the engine on and gunned it almost to full revs. (Once the engine is on even if we get struck by lightning it will continue to work! – Who knew that? – Useful!)

In the midst of all this mayhem we managed/had to put three reefs into the sail, although some damage had already been done, we thought.

The rain and wind continued to lash us for the next 35 mins. We maintained our heading into the wind and sat it out. I was a quivering wreck clinging to the metal winches under the sprayhood until the thought that if we were to be struck by lightning that perhaps clinging to a large clump of metal wouldn’t be the best idea!

The boat was tossed about like a cork and she weighs about 15 tonnes. At one point, the gunwales on the port side were so completely covered in water that I feared the cockpit would flood.

Ian shouted encouraging things at me as I melted down. ‘Wind’s easing now!’ ‘It’s nearly passed us!’ Don’t worry we’ll be fine!’ and other such NONSENSE…..because I knew – WE WERE GOING TO DIE!!!!!

Well, okaaay – we didn’t; neither did the boat flood; the bimini rip, the mast get struck by lightning or either of us fall overboard. Below decks the worst that went on was that an errant box of red wine slid about the floor.

It was all actually fine; once the sun had started to make a brief reappearance and the nasty clouds and lightning had decided to play elsewhere; clearly we had been fortunate. Although my inner voice and I continued to have a conversation along the lines of OMG! Never again! Why do I do it? until the wee small hours of the morning.

Once things had calmed down we had a good sail towards Crotone and arrived in the port at 2330h in almost flat calm conditions.

After a deep night’s sleep, we went to the office to pay. I negotiated in my fledgling Italian and managed to get the price down from 122E to 70E, so I was very pleased that we were paying the same amount as we had three years previously.

We headed into town. Within minutes of leaving the marina we came across a nice looking restaurant. On a mission for some comfort food we piled in.

What a great place! We had avocado and prawn salad, baked olives, tomato salad appetiser, grilled calamari with lemon, squid ink spaghetti with calamari and mushrooms, and perfectly cooked fillet of beef grilled with black salt and lemon.

Washed down with a gorgeous local wine from the ‘Nappa Valley’ of Calabria and smartly followed by chocolate and hazelnut moose cake and a tiramisu. Totally yum and just what we needed.

From thence, we went to the supermarket to restock and took and taxi back to the boat with our hoard.

Next morning was another early start. 0500h up and at ’em. 0530h motoring out of the marina into a lumpy sea.

We wanted to arrive at Rocella Ionica before dark. We made it.

The last leg is to head across to Taomina on Sicily to meet up with David Heane who is coming to explore the Aolian islands with us before we head to our winter berth.

Next time, read about our trip to the Aolian Islands and Stromboli.

Montenegro to Brindisi

The Appian Steps

Having motored out of the bay of Kotor we found that the wind was pretty much perfect for our crossing to mainland Italy. 130 miles to the SSW. a journey we expected to take around 26 hours. To begin with we sailed with the main and the head sail but soon Ian was itching to fly the genaker.

In 12 knots of wind we were tonking along at around 6 knots which is a great conversion speed…At this rate we would be arriving in Brindisi in the early hours of the morning!

For some hours the huge mountains of Montenegro continued to be clearly visible on the horizon behind us.

Although the sea wasn’t particularly lumpy I wasn’t feeling too good. I must have lost my sea legs in the Bay of Kotor. At dusk we took down the genaker and put the genoa back out. We continued to make good time and Ian was able to grab a little sleep during the evening and then take the midnight watch. The almost full moon was up and gave off its comforting glow well into the night. There was very little traffic about, in fact we didn’t see another vessel until about 35nm off the Italian coast.

I woke at 0400h to go up and keep Ian company. The moon had disappeared and the clouds had gathered on our port side and behind us and we were watched the ensuing lightning show with some trepidation: Hoping that the wind would blow the storms away from us.

Finally, the sun came up and we could make out the low lying coast ahead.

We needed to run the engine for a while because the auto pilot uses such a lot of the battery power. We started the engine but after about 20 mins noticed a strong smell of burning and a great deal of heat coming from the engine bay. Ian’s first thought was that the alternator had developed a fault, as it was that which had caused us problems towards the end of last season. We shut down the engine and wondered if it would be okay to start the engine again without causing further damage.

Anyway, we sailed on and decided that we would sail as far into the harbour as possible only putting the engine on to steer into a mooring in the marina.

Outside the harbour wall, which is HUGE, at least 2nm long, we dropped the main sail. We were going to sail the remainder of the way with the head sail only.

On we went, I called the marina to book a berth. I made a few snacks to eat and prepared the boat for mooring.

As we rounded the inner harbour wall Ian started the engine…..NOTHING!

He tried again….NOTHING!

After I had a melt down we tried to decide what to do. We could get the dinghy off the davits and use it to push us into the berth, we could call the marina to ask for assistance, we could sail in!

I called the marina up and asked for help. They said they would be there in 5 mins.

We managed to lower the dinghy into the water but it was just to tight on space to give us time to put the engine on and attach the dinghy to the side of the boat.

We tacked back and forth in the bay playing for time.

The marinero called us on the radio to say that their rib was not working and they couldn’t come to help. Argh!!! We were instructed to come in port side to the second pontoon.

I rigged more lines. We tacked at least six or eight more tiimes so that we could get sufficiently up wind. I certainly got my work out that morning winching and pulling repeatedly. The wind was fairly strong at about 17kn. Ian reduced the amount of head sail that was out. Finally, we were in a good position to be able to head towards the pontoon at the right angle.

We were about 50m from the pontoon when the marinero told me to lower the fenders. I had about 20 seconds to undo them and re-position them all at the most crucial moment.

I then had to dash back to release the genoa sheet to reduce our speed. I threw the bow line; Ian adding pressure by saying it was a one chance throw and to make sure it was a good one.

It was!!

Ian threw the aft line and we were secure.

The marineros were fantastic and neighbouring boats were also giving a hand to slow us down and fend us off. We were secure 23 hours after setting off.

I think, after all that, I was perfectly entitled to swear loudly in Italian!!!

Phew! Mark and Jan of Lyra of Beauleigh, (whom we had met last year in Kalamata after the engine wouldn’t start) happened to be in Brindisi and welcomed us. We were in no fit state. I certainly could barely string two words together! We neither of us had had much sleep.

We agreed to catch up later.

First, we had to put the boat to bed and tidy up all the lines. The electrician would be coming round soon and the boat looked like a bomb site. I set to tidying up and cleaning. We decided to have a nap whilst we waited.

Marco arrived and we woke up with creases embedded on our faces.

As he worked, we slept on.

He was finished…it was the starter motor that was the problem. A corroded cable had caused a short and the starter motor was kaput.

Marco left to order a new one.

Passport control sign

We had to then muster the energy to go into town on the bus. It is a requirement to register with customs and the port police having entered Italy from a non EU country. Luckily, the bus would take us right to the port police. Except, it didn’t. so we ended up walking about 3km. Paperwork was duly completed and we had a quick look round the old town of Brindisi before heading back to Linea.

We needed pizza so I made delicious tortilla pizza using a new stove top method. ( Courtesy SV Kittiwake) I am pleased to report that they were delicious. They took mere minutes to cook, saving us gas and added cabin heat from the oven.

On thursday we met up with Mark and Jan for coffee. After a good night’s sleep we were feeling back to normal. We enjoyed having a catch up with them and met up later for dinner in the marina restaurant.

On Saturday Marco came to fit the new starter motor (900 Euros plus labour!). All was going well. The engine started; the alternator seemed to be producing electricity and feeding it into the batteries; the instrument panels appeared to be in working order. Fantastic. Marco gathered up his tools and shook hands with us. Grazie! Grazie!

Just as he was about to step off Linea, Ian tried to switch the engine OFF. No joy. the connection to the fuel solenoid seemed to be broken. Marco climbed back on!

He spent a couple of hours trying to figure out the problem. We await his return.

Time in Split by bus

Ian and I decided to take a quick day trip to Split from our anchorage in Vinisce. This involved a couple a buses from Vinisce to Trogir and then from there to Split. All very easy to figure out. We arrived in Split around midday and headed to the old town. Here we wandered round taking in the sights.

It was of course very warm and we soon ran out of the impetus to wander round much more. We headed for a fabulous health food bistro Step by Step and ordered some yummy salads and ravioli.

Having re-fuelled we felt better and were able to summon up the energy to walk back to the bus station. The bus times worked perfectly for us and although we arrived back after dark there were no problems getting back to the boat.

A good day out.


Sailing in the bay of Kotor, a massive inland sea.

In order to leave Croatia officially, it is necessary to complete some paperwork. First, you have to moor stern to the customs quay; then visit the harbour master who checks you have paid your cruising tax; then pay your respects to the port police who check your crew list and passports. It all takes quite a while especially when boats ahead of you on the quay are getting snagged on each other’s anchors and you, meanwhile, are having to motor round and round in circles whilst they sort themselves out. Hey ho!

So, we left later than expected to sail to Montenegro. There wasn’t so much wind and what there was, was predictably blowing towards us. We sailed some and motored some.

Whilst completing the engine checks this morning Ian noticed that water was leaking into the sail drive. It is not good when salt water gets in to those delicate gears and so we knew we had to find a yard to lift us out and replace the seal, etc. We contacted a yard in Dubrovnik to the north and one in Montenegro. The Navar Yacht Services Tivat in Montenegro offered a very good price to lift us out fix the problem and put us back in. We wanted to go there anyway so it made sense to head south.

We arrived in Zelenika where we had to check into Montenegro. This took some time and so we arrived at our chosen anchorage just as it was getting dark. We anchored in a bay south of Sv Marko island which used to be a Club Med Resort before the civil war and is now derelict. The holding was excellent and the shelter from the north also good.

We spent a couple of nights here prior to motoring towards the boatyard We met up with Tim, Katie and Molly on Monty B who run a day charter company around the Bay and who know lots of our friends from Marina di Ragusa, where we over-winter Linea.

Linea being lifted in Navar Boat Yard.

We had an appointment for 1000h in the yard. The weather was perfect and we reversed into the slips with ease. Within an hour and forty minutes we were being lowered back into the water. Fixed again!!

For the next few days we explored the bay of Kotor. Its dramatic surrounding black mountains truly are remarkable. We headed north past two islands with churches on them and anchored in a bay at the mouth of a small river. Ashore we found an old mill building which still uses the power of the river water to turn the olive press wheel.

Next day, we motored past the church islands to get a better view and headed further into the bay down to the town of Kotor. We were able to anchor off in the bay well out of the way of the three visiting cruise ships.

Here there is a walled town rather like a mini Dubrovnik. We enjoyed an evening stroll around the town but were determined to come back early in the morning so that we could walk around in complete peace before the cruise ship passengers were disgorged.

Fresh mussels

On our return we found a fantastic market and met some guys who had just come back from harvesting mussels. We bought a kilo of mussels for tea for an astronomical 3 Euros.

After a couple of days here we moved back to Tivat because we had arranged to hire a car to explore further inland.

We had a good walk along the impressive promenade at Tivat, past the pristine superyacht harbour with its designer shops and along to the Maritime Museum. Here we happened upon a tour which was about to start around a Yugoslavian submarine. What an interesting half hour. The guide explained all about the submarine in impecable English and Italian. I even got to look in the periscope!

We met Bojan the car hire guy and picked up the car. First job was to get the gas bottle refilled which we did at an INA gas station close to the boat yard. We were then able to re-stock the larder at a huge supermarket. Jobs done we headed back to the boat.

We were up early next day and drove from Tivat to Budva on the south coast of Montenegro. Although the touristy Stari Grad old town was quite quaint the rest of Budva held little or no appeal for either of us and we couldn’t wait to leave. We drove up to Cetingje which is the former capital of Montenegro and is at a higher elevation and delightfully cool. The streets are largely pedestrianised and the buildings painted in various pastel shades. Its streets are lined with trees and there are many parks. The old embassy buildings are still there and fairly well preserved, housing a variety of museums. We enjoyed wandering round there for a couple of hours. It was very charming.

Next stop was the Lovcen National Park. The road continued to rise up the mountain side and the vegetation became increasingly sparse. There were pine trees and more rocky terrain. Such buildings as there were had a distinctly alpine look. Round the next bend we spotted a T bar and fields which are clearly pistes in winter.

Ski bum!

We jumped out at the Visitor Welcome Centre but were rather underwhelmed at the total lack of interest in us or lack of any information about walking trails and so on. We accidentally came across a ‘Bare Foot Trail’.

Ah, we thought, this is more like it.. However, on closer inspection it was totally ruined and neglected. Such a pity because there was massive potential for any number of activities in this huge and beautiful park.

Further up the road we made a sharp turn to the left on a brand new road. Not even evident on Google maps. It led us down the mountain towards Kotor. It would have been impossible to get lost because we could see an incredible vista beneath us. Both the Kotor and Tivat bays were fully visible though the clothes. Cruise ships were dots below us. We could even make out Linea – a tiny speck far below.

We stopped for a bite to eat near the top of the mountain and it was surprisingly chilly sitting out on the terrace above the clouds – lovely.

We began to drive back down to Tivat, carefully negotiating 20 tight hairpin bends along the narrow road. Called the Ladder of Kotor. Many of the road-edge barriers had crumbled and I was at pains to point out (entirely unnecessarily!) to Ian that he needed to stay well away from the edge! We squeezed through impossible gaps besides cars coming up. Occasionally knocking wing mirrors. Even full length coaches were taking this hideously vertiginous route!

Yes! Some people cycle UP the Ladder of Kotor!!

Soon, we were back at sea level and it was very much warmer.

We dropped off the car and went back to Linea. Later that evening Rob from Pablo Neruda came over and we shared a few beers with him. He knew a few people in common and it was interesting to chat to him about his travels.

My ‘Ink Stamp’

Next day, we were going to head back to mainland Italy but first we wanted and take advantage of being able to buy duty free fuel at a bargain price of approx 60 cents per litre. In order to be able to do this we had to have a boat stamp. Hmm, we don’t have an official ink stamp so I set about making one by carving the boat name and registration number on a potato!

Thank you to Helen Peyton for her coaching in lino printing classes. I think I made a fairly good attempt. However, the fuel dock manager was not impressed by my creative talents and refused to let us have the duty free fuel. We had to move to another part of the fuel quay to fill up (still only 1.21 Euros per litre) and then move again to the customs quay to check out of Montenegro.

Finally, we had completed the official tasks and were heading out of the Bay of Kotor out into the Adriatic Proper.