Sweet Scilla, Sailors' Terror in Days Gone By

The rock where the monster sat to ravage passing ships.  Now a quaint town with houses creeping up the steep slope of the saddle topped by a castle.

Our two night cruise to Italy was uneventful, comprised entirely of motor sailing in the fickle Mediterranean breeze, until the end.  The only tragic situation, still miles offshore, was spying a very small owl sitting on our genoa sheet.  When it saw my bright pink t-shirt, it took off with a tired flutter toward the distant shore.  Thinking about it’s almost certain demise haunted me for hours.  Poor little guy!

We wanted to beat an increasing north wind that was forecast to last for several days in the Messina Strait, the channel between Sicily and mainland Italy of Odyssey fame.  The north wind funnels through the narrow 1.5 miles wide northern end, gaining strength as it blows into the wider bay at the southern end.  This combined with a tidal current to fight or use to advantage has made the strait notorious and, in antiquity, perilous. The northern end is bounded by Scilla on the mainland where the dreadful the monster with six vicious dogs' heads plucked sailors from their ships and Charybdis on the Sicilian side where a giant whirlpool sucked ships under water. To beat the wind and not get stuck at the southern end of the strait meant getting through it as fast as possible during the very early and dark hours of the morning - my shift.  

The wind did pick up as we rounded the Italian point into the southern approach to almost 30 knots on our nose but the current was with us.  The biggest concern was the constant shipping traffic, whether ferries crossing the strait or container ships in the shipping lanes.  It is always difficult to discern, when so close to land, the lights on shore versus the lights on ships.  I had forgotten.

As dawn broke - and Peter woke up - we were able to view the coastline while negotiating the increasing numbers of ferries and eventually sword fishing boats.  After 320 NM and almost 48 hours we anchored in the beautiful bay of Scilla.  No monsters, no whirlpools.  (To be fair to history and mythology, an earthquake in 1783 changed the topography of the sea bottom and tamed Scilla and Charybdis.)

Milly at anchor in the lovely Scilla bay.

Swordfish regularly migrate through the Messina Strait and a fleet of these boats is out in force from dawn to dusk to try and catch them.  The masts - double Milly's in height - and the 15m long bowsprit are elaborately rigged with stays to keep them in place.  We saw as many as four crew standing on top of the mast, looking in different directions for the fish which "sleep" on the surface or jump.  Then they race off, while other crew walk the bowsprit to harpoon the catch.  

From the terrace overhanging the water where we had lunch, we had front row seats but didn't see a catch -  disappointing but also a relief.  Apparently the captain steers from his position on the top of the lattice steel mast.  As you can see, the bowsprit is longer than the boat.

The fishing district of Scilla, Chianalea, is definitely a working village mixed with small hotels and restaurants.  

A delightful spot.

Charming pedestrian and scooter only lanes.

Lovely wooded and mountainous coastline where only Italians and those of Italian descent visiting their homeland tour along with the odd cruiser or two.

Graffiti in the castle by a soldier on duty.

We had to try the local specialty and did it in pizza form - swordfish, fresh and smoked, on homemade crust overhanging the sea along with a very gregarious owner/chef/waiter.  He practiced his English by regaling us with tales of sword fishing.  It is wonderful to be in Italy again!