Weatherly Sailing Adventures
I was excited to see Weatherly in Rome again, and comforted to be back in my familiar ‘home’. I was especially pleased that there was no notable deterioration in its condition over the past 9 months I’d left her there. I worked tirelessly to get the boat prepared for launching, checking critical systems and restocking the boat for living aboard. One satisfying and poignant moment was to remove the large ‘Vendesi’ (For Sale) banners roped to the sides of the yacht. Fortunately, nobody had seriously wanted to buy Weatherly, and I was back to the lifestyle I enjoy most. To think it had nearly been derailed…!
I endured a frustrating cooking gas problem, after refilling my bottles. The burners would extinguish with a disturbing ‘whoof!’ sound after igniting. The supplier told me it must be my regulator which was indeed very old. A week went past looking around industrial areas in the nearby suburbs and Rome itself, for a regulator to fit my Australian bottles, or for an adapter. It was tedious trying to cook onboard in this time, with the burners going out every few minutes. Finally, I cut my regulator fitting off and had it welded to an Italian fitting as an adapter to a new Italian regulator. Whoof, again! But slightly better. The cylinders contained propane and not a butane mix. A month later, after refilling the cylinders in France, I found the usual butane/propane gas burned perfectly, so my old regulator probably wasn’t at fault afterall.
I was not allowed to work on the yacht myself, a policy of the yard. I had to grin and bear it, watching the expensive but shoddy antifoul job they did, almost painting over barnacles before I intervened. But at least the yard let me sleep aboard and it was a pleasant enough place from my ‘verandah’ overlooking the river and yard’s shrubbery for breakfast.
The road to town was a frightening treck. Italian drivers are particularly dangerous along the ‘racetrack’ by the yard. Flowers and memorabilia marked where there had been separate fatalities just in the past year. I was nearly mown down by a speeding car on a narrow curve, as it overtook another and then smashed into a tree 30 metres behind me. I ran back to attend the seriously injured passenger and asked the people in the other car to call an ambulance. Another pedestrian monitored the driver who couldn’t move from the wreckage. Even female drivers are macho in Italy. Shaken, I had to conclude I was far safer at sea than on the roads.
When Weatherly was finally launched, I moved upstream to a delightfully rustic and cheaper mooring alongside the river banks The path was overgrown with weeds, but I had company of some nice English friends I had met on a yacht in Tunisia last year. The mooring manager, Chesarey, was very kind, taking me for coffees and porcetta sandwiches (a local speciality), and gave me some deck cushions. He had recently closed down his upholstery warehouse and had many cushions stockpiled. Chesarey explained the pleasant sea breeze was called a Poniente, and unexpectedly started singing a song about it in the coffee shop. I like the spontaneity of Italians and I enjoyed having conversations with this friendly man. It was a relaxed and convenient place to get to Rome city by bus and train, and I spent several days going into town between jobs on the boat.
At the Colluseum there are stockily built men clad in Roman tunics and armoury, but it was humorously out of role character to watch one talk on a mobile phone. Another smoked a cigarette in a quiet time between posing for tourists. Across the road were gardens and ruins of ancient Rome's Forum, the city's centre for administration, worship and commerce. The gardens on the hill inside the grounds were an attractive and quiet place to eat my lunch on a park bench. A friendly German couple on their 20th wedding anniversary sat next to me and opened 2 beers, offering me one too. Though I commended their concept and generosity, I was content just to sip my cold water. They loved to visit Rome and had been there dozens of times, to look at new places or revisit museums.
The gelatos (ice-creams) tasted fabulous, and were generous sizes, and I indulged in them on a few hot days I was in the city. My favourite flavours were straciatella, nocciola, lemon and strawberry, though I just had to try many others to make my assessment.
My mother and aunt flew in from Sicily to meet for a day on their busy travel itinerary, and it was good to have a little time together again. I visited most of the major sites, such as the touristy Spanish steps, romantic Trevi Fountain, enormous and glittery St Peters basilica, extensive Vatican museum (with Egyptian mummies and European art), spectacular Colluseum, and classic ruins of the Roman Forum. It was fun even just to walk around getting lost in narrow winding lanes the other side of the Tiber river. There is plenty to do and see in Rome, and I could’ve spent more time there, but as with other places I didn’t quite get to see all, it’s a reason to come back another time…!
I also had a lot of trouble with refrigerant gas. I bought a gas bottle from an auto accessories shop, but it had an Italian fitting, so spent more days looking around for an adapter. I finally found one in an industrial area an hour away by bus, after wearing my shoe soles down walking around Fiumicino and asking from likely shop to shop. Another complication was that shops shut for a few hours in the middle of the day, a limitation on my search times. While in the specialist refrigerant shop, I stocked up on other components so I could be more independent for the trip back to Australia. Unfortunately my manifold gas line burst under pressure from a blocked filter, and I lost the gas from the new bottle. R134A gas is not harmful to the ozone, non-toxic nor corrosive (unlike the older R22 gas) but I needed another bottle. The auto accessories shop only had a 13kg non-refillable bottle available, so I bought it and another hose. I didn't expect to find the hoses or my various adapters would not fit the unique, non-standard fitting on this new bottle. It was a long walk to return it, and as it was a Saturday, the only day when the bridge opened early, I was impatient to leave. I imagined I could surely obtain another adapter when I arrived in France. A big assumption.
Finally, after 6 weeks in Fiumicino and Rome, I cast off the mooring lines and passed under the lifting bridge. I had broken away from the shackles of land, and was free to roam the sea again ! It was a tremendous feeling to be sailing and living onboard, as I cruised up the coast and free-anchored at several small coves. I stopped at Santa Marinella town and then a natural cove on horse-shoe shaped Gianutri island, before a long motor-sail to the southern coast of Corsica. Passing the island of Monte Cristo island, I saw some dolphins swimming in in the light under the setting sun.
Yes, I feel back again!
