First Days in Gioia Tauro

8th-21st September

Gioia Tauro is a huge container port. Once upon a time there was land there, olive groves and citrus groves, a fertile plain bordering the sea. Now the land has been dredged and a new port built, huge walls protecting it from the wrath of the sea. Behind the walls is the long, narrow port, four kilometres of it, where the giant container ships come to be unloaded and loaded. It was onto one of these ships that Twelfth of Never was to be loaded and consigned to Singapore.

Behind the container port, tucked into a corner, was the small harbour where Ron had organised berths for both boats. We found the entrance to the main harbour easily enough but after that it became a little more difficult. Desperately, we scanned the shore, hoping for some sign that there was a break in the wall, evidence of the smaller port behind. Eventually I spied some masts and then...was that the gap we were looking for? Tony confirmed it... there was the entrance. At the same time we were keeping a lookout for container ships as we had already waited outside the main harbour while two enormous monsters slowly edged their way out. And then, the best help possible... a fishing boat was entering the smaller port. Joy!!! We could follow it. We were glad of their lead because they took a strange route in order to avoid shallow patches. Then we saw Twelfth of Never and, before I realised it, we were almost berthed... bow first!!!

This has definitely been a year for trying new things. We have never berthed bow first before, believing that the bow is too high, that getting on and off would be too difficult... once we were tied up to the quay Tony set about getting the kedge anchor out of the anchor locker (at the front of the boat), carrying it back to the stern trailing heavy chain and thick rope, putting it into the dinghy, after which Alex and Stephen rowed it out into the harbour, where they dropped it. Tony was then able to tighten the line thus holding Ganaymede off the quay. For the two weeks we were there I vaguely worried about how we were going to get out without someone to help us pull up the anchor and put it away, because there would be no electric windlass to help us and Sheenagh and the boys would have gone on their way, back to France and England.

The harbour was tiny. On the opposite side were some floating pontoons, all full, no spaces available for visiting boats. Further along, hugging the wall, was another pontoon, small day boats taking up every available space. On our side of the harbour there was a quay with five or six fishing boats, none of which seemed ever to leave the harbour, a couple of coastguard boats and, immediately next to Twelfth of Never, two large fire boats. Immediately next to Ganymede there was a flotilla of small fishing boats and day boats. There were too many of them to all be tied directly onto the quay so there was a system whereby a line went from the wall to a buoy about twenty metres into the harbour. One boat was then able to tie up to the wall while five or six others tied on to the line front and back... There were maybe a dozen such lines and it was quite an effort for the boats to make their way in and out. Nevertheless, many of the small fishing boats went out very early each morning and although when they returned I watched carefully (or so I thought) I was never able to discover whether they actually caught any fish.

Ron headed back to France, back to work. Sheenagh went with him by taxi to the airport at Reggio Calabria, where she hired a car. There were some men working on the fire boat and Tony asked if there was a bar nearby where we could go for coffee, yes, was the answer... but we are going that way, come with us, we will show you... so off went Tony and came back within minutes... the bar was indeed close by. And it had a small restaurant. Naturally, then, our first foray out of the harbour was to the restaurant to enjoy a simple Italian lunch.

The days were still hot, the relentless sun beating down on us mercilessly. Now that there was a car available we were able to go into town. According to the pilot guide it was a good thirty minute walk into town, with not much shade... but from the car it didn't look too bad. In the town, food shops, clothes shops, bars and restaurants. By chance we found the bar that supposedly served the best coffee. It certainly was delicious.
We had no news of when Twelfth of Never would be loaded, The container ship had yet to arrive and so we passed the days pottering around on the boats, visiting the town, eating in the local restaurant and sightseeing.

Inland, the countryside is spectacular with high mountains and lush, green valleys. When we went out in the car Sheenagh and Alex shared the driving but Alex somehow managed to get the worst bits: the hairpin bends, the mountain roads. Our first excursion was to Vibo Valentia, along winding roads, through small towns, confronted by sudden valleys, views of the sea, of the mountains. But we didn't stop when we got there preferring to negotiate our way through the traffic and down to the sea. We stopped in Vibo Marina and ended up having a drink in the bar of one of the marinas there. It was quiet, relaxing. I liked it. Just for interest, I decided to get some information about over-wintering there. I know... our plan was made, it was to be Corfu for the winter! But still... just for interest...

And then we headed home, trying not to head back up the hill to Vibo Valentia again... it was a VERY twisty road. Eventually we came to Tropea, or the outskirts. What a first view of it we had! The marina tucked into the bay down below and then, suddenly, to see the mediaeval town, high on a cliff, the houses built out to the very edge. Stunning! As it was late, we decided to visit it the next day.

After that, try as we might, all roads seemed to lead to Vibo Valentia. We did get home, eventually, but I am sure towards the end Alex was exhausted and no longer appreciating the beauty of the scenery.