Day 56:
Yesterday I finished the paddle to the Lega Navale in Civitavecchia. I had accidentally told them I would be there last Wednesday, when I meant Thursday, but was running late and with a two day break in Rome only arrived this evening.
What was Rome like? I can only say that I may not have had the properly reverent attitude when passing the tombs of the popes who oversaw the crusades and the inquisition. We were looking for the one behind the expulsion from Spain or he-who-was-pontiff during WWII, but were ushered out of the hall before we could find them.
The other interesting thing we noticed in the mausoleum is the number of popes who presided for two months or less. There were a lot. While a more empirical data set would be necessary, I suspect the conclusion would be the same as my conjecture. Many popes died before their natural time, or that one is more likely to be selected pope if he is in extremely poor health.
I wasn't on the water until about 1:30 p.m. There was a wind that was sometimes helpful and sometimes not. A little farther out to sea it would have been a strong wind, but I was within a few meters of the beach almost the whole day.
Most of the land was wilderness, woods or salt marshes. Sometimes the trees would rise up high and at others they would be low scrubland things. I saw a bird on the beach that had long legs, a long neck, and a long beak. It was trying to find shallow water to stand in, but had to move on every time a wave would come. I think it was somehow in the wrong place.
The wilderness ended and as night came I was paddling along a giant industrial plant that stank of sulfur. Soon after I crossed a huge port that was designed for big boat traffic. I kept my eyes open for anything that was too big to see me, but the water was quiet except for the occasional night fisherman.
Paddling along a seawall there were lots of fish around me, more than I've seen yet, splashing around the water and leaping out of it. There was a big fish, about a foot and a half long that leaped out near the front of my boat, and thudded into my bow hull just under the water line. My kayak shook.
I put my lure back in the water and before long was pretty sure I had caught something. Anxious to end my day, I decided I would leave it there and deal with it when I pulled into port.
Blinded by a powerful light just above the water I went over some shallow rocks that I otherwise would have seen. I shivered as my hull crunched over them knowing that another ugly scar would mark it. A minute later my reel popped out from under the bungees. I pulled my line in and found that I lost my lure and whatever tasty treat might still be hooked on it.
There were bioluminescents. Little tiny sparks would spill off my paddle, or jump out of the water just behind them. Farther away when a fish would leap, his landing would be marked by sparks bursting up after it. It was a little bit of magic next to an industrial port.
Finally I pulled into the smaller port I was looking for. I had saved the position on my GPS, and it's a good thing because their navigational lights weren't working. In the darkness I didn't see the harbor until I was only a very short distance away.
The president of the Lega Navale Civitavecchia was extremely welcoming and made me feel like a visiting lord. He told me that the purpose of the Lega Navale was to help those doing awesome trips like mine, and educate youth about the sea. Here they take kids out windsurfing.
The goal of education is a wonderful one. The sea covers most of the globe, and its health is a good indicator of the health of the planet. Right now the sea is not healthy, coral reefs are dying, water is rising and too warm, fish have poison in their livers, and overfishing is devastating natural habitats. It's nice to know that some people are still fighting.
I slept last night on a boat in one of the oldest Roman harbors. The port is surrounded by ancient walls and battlements.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
My Search and Rescue
Last night I posted the exact position of my kayak on the blog. It is unusual for me to do this for security reasons, however, I was feeling generous.
This morning I had my night things in my duffel bag and was making my way towards my boat. Their was a coast guardian near my boat, possibly waiting for me and possibly minding his own business. I was best off avoiding the coast guard, so far they had only caused me trouble.
To get dressed and prepare my boat for launch I would need at least a half hour with it. A distraction was in order, how could I get the coast guardian away from my boat for half an hour? Arson, I would set fire to one of the other boats in the harbor and then quietly be off.
On second thought, I had probably better face my fate, I could even hope he wasn't waiting for me.
“Is this your boat?” He asked me.
“Yes.”
“You need to come with me.” He said. Rats, what had I done now. He went on to tell me that he had been waiting by my boat all night.
“Sorry.”
“No problem, that's my job.” He said kindly and professionally.
I met the captain of the harbor and we came to the following understanding. I would call a free number for the Italian coast guard search and rescue (SAR) force every night and tell them my position. The coast guard had gotten wind of my trip the night before. They had also come to the understanding that I was lost at sea and launched two boats and a rescue plane some time around midnight to recover what was left of me.
I learned later that this was partially my fault, I had arranged to meet the Lega Navale in Civitavecchia a night earlier then I had realized, and when I didn't show up at the prearranged time they informed the coast guard. Sorry.
Day 55:
I set out in a straight line from Porto Ercole to Montalto Marina. I checked the weather and was expecting a mid level wind, that might have been a little helpful, especially in the afternoon. In fact it was a straight on headwind. I stopped for one of my breaks (42.360573,11.34613) and found that I was moving back the way I came at two knots. I decided to cut straight towards land hoping that the wind and current would be reduced there, even though it was over a mile out of the way.
I was hoping to make it past Montalto Marina so that I would have a short trip on Fridayto Civitavacchia, but instead I arrived late. The harbor there, the mouth of a river, is small and barely developed. I saw only one other boat on the water next to a high seawall and took mine out at a ramp. About a hundred meters away there was a small gated and locked yard with boats in it. The yard was next to a house so I knocked on the door to ask if I could leave my boat there. The man did not own the yard, or speak English, and told me I would have to wait until tomorrow.
I wanted to go to Rome for the weekend, my parents were there visiting, and I wanted to leave that night. So I climbed over the gate with my kayak, hid it in the yard, and made to leave when the man was out of the house again and yelling at me. He knew I had put the boat in the yard because it wasn't where I he had seen it earlier, but the kayak was hidden well enough so that he couldn't find it.
Angry and confused he went at me in Italian, and finally got really mad at me for not understanding him. Eventually he stormed off.
I called the coast guard number to tell them where I was and that I wouldn't be paddling until the weekend. The man on the other end of the line was not only happy to talk to me, but was able to give me train information. That was really nice. Hopefully I will continue to enjoy a more positive relationship with the coast guard, and find my boat where I left it when I get back.
This morning I had my night things in my duffel bag and was making my way towards my boat. Their was a coast guardian near my boat, possibly waiting for me and possibly minding his own business. I was best off avoiding the coast guard, so far they had only caused me trouble.
To get dressed and prepare my boat for launch I would need at least a half hour with it. A distraction was in order, how could I get the coast guardian away from my boat for half an hour? Arson, I would set fire to one of the other boats in the harbor and then quietly be off.
On second thought, I had probably better face my fate, I could even hope he wasn't waiting for me.
“Is this your boat?” He asked me.
“Yes.”
“You need to come with me.” He said. Rats, what had I done now. He went on to tell me that he had been waiting by my boat all night.
“Sorry.”
“No problem, that's my job.” He said kindly and professionally.
I met the captain of the harbor and we came to the following understanding. I would call a free number for the Italian coast guard search and rescue (SAR) force every night and tell them my position. The coast guard had gotten wind of my trip the night before. They had also come to the understanding that I was lost at sea and launched two boats and a rescue plane some time around midnight to recover what was left of me.
I learned later that this was partially my fault, I had arranged to meet the Lega Navale in Civitavecchia a night earlier then I had realized, and when I didn't show up at the prearranged time they informed the coast guard. Sorry.
Day 55:
I set out in a straight line from Porto Ercole to Montalto Marina. I checked the weather and was expecting a mid level wind, that might have been a little helpful, especially in the afternoon. In fact it was a straight on headwind. I stopped for one of my breaks (42.360573,11.34613) and found that I was moving back the way I came at two knots. I decided to cut straight towards land hoping that the wind and current would be reduced there, even though it was over a mile out of the way.
I was hoping to make it past Montalto Marina so that I would have a short trip on Fridayto Civitavacchia, but instead I arrived late. The harbor there, the mouth of a river, is small and barely developed. I saw only one other boat on the water next to a high seawall and took mine out at a ramp. About a hundred meters away there was a small gated and locked yard with boats in it. The yard was next to a house so I knocked on the door to ask if I could leave my boat there. The man did not own the yard, or speak English, and told me I would have to wait until tomorrow.
I wanted to go to Rome for the weekend, my parents were there visiting, and I wanted to leave that night. So I climbed over the gate with my kayak, hid it in the yard, and made to leave when the man was out of the house again and yelling at me. He knew I had put the boat in the yard because it wasn't where I he had seen it earlier, but the kayak was hidden well enough so that he couldn't find it.
Angry and confused he went at me in Italian, and finally got really mad at me for not understanding him. Eventually he stormed off.
I called the coast guard number to tell them where I was and that I wouldn't be paddling until the weekend. The man on the other end of the line was not only happy to talk to me, but was able to give me train information. That was really nice. Hopefully I will continue to enjoy a more positive relationship with the coast guard, and find my boat where I left it when I get back.
School
Why is it so important that I get back to school that I can't finish my trip?
I have work to do.
http://scientistatwork.blogs.nytimes.com/
I have work to do.
http://scientistatwork.blogs.nytimes.com/
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Editor's Note
Oops.
I posted some of Dov's blog entries out of order when I overlooked the original days 50 and 51. I've put everything right now, I think, but I have inserted new entries for days 50 and 51 and renumbered the subsequent ones accordingly.
As they say in Italy, mea culpa.
~ ed.
I posted some of Dov's blog entries out of order when I overlooked the original days 50 and 51. I've put everything right now, I think, but I have inserted new entries for days 50 and 51 and renumbered the subsequent ones accordingly.
As they say in Italy, mea culpa.
~ ed.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
The Great League
Day 54:
Today I paddled from Porto Stefano to Porto Ercole. I intended to go much farther, but I was beat. I don't know why, but I couldn't paddle five minutes without wanting a break.
Argentario used to be an island, roads now connect it to the mainland making it a big peninsula. It's an amazing place. The usual fantastic woods, small islands just offshore, mighty cliffs, and deep sea caves.
Today I paddled into my first sea cave, large enough to get my entire boat in with plentyof room to spare. I had a look around the cavern. The water was calm, clear, and a lighter shade of blue. The ceiling rose high above me and from the center, I could see just about all of it. There were two entrances. On my way out I sang, adding "explorer extraordinare" to my list of attributes.
An old fisherman was talking to me from his boat and I told him I didn't understand Italian. That didn't stop him. He went right on telling me things. I was worried that he was trying to warn me of some fatal danger ahead.
Instead of dying, I caught a fish. I had it on my line and tried to pull it in. I couldn't, it wasstuck on my rudder. I dragged it behind me until I could pull over. There were seagulls flying overhead so I tried explaining to them that it would be very rude of them to take my fish from behind my boat. Since this had little effect I tried yelling like a crazy man.
I finally found a tiny private port to pull over in. I straightened out my fish and spoke to the men working on the house above. All I needed for the night, and I was ready to call it a day, was water. I would ask for water and permission to sleep by the small dock, tell my story, and hope for greater hospitality.
The man working on the house said that he could not give me water because he was just working there. He added that the owner of the house was the queen of Holland and was not home right now. At least, she was not in this one.
I got back in my boat and paddled some more. I kept the fish in the water along side theboat hoping this would keep it fresh.
When I got to port, steering clear of coast guard run Capianteria, I found the yacht clubclubhouse and asked if I could sleep there. The answer was no. There were a few old guys seated outside talking, so I tried standing around looking pathetic for a while. One of them pointed to a large fishing boat and suggested that I might be allowed to sleep there.
No thanks. I went back to my kayak and began setting up for another evening of sleep-in- hiding. A boat pulled up and the man aboard spoke English. We chatted as he disembarked and closed up. I showed him my catch of the day. He looked at it and said he caught one like that too. He used as bait for this. He held up a giant red sea monster, at least a hundred pounds. He brought it up from a depth of a hundred meters. Tokyo can now rest easy.
He also mentioned that there is a Lega Navale* here in town. I followed his directions to a man who said that I could sleep here. Let me use the internet, and gave me that which I treasure above all, a welcoming smile.
The Coast Guard ports in Italy are unfriendly places of motor bureaucracy. Lega Navale Italiano is company of men and woman who are making the world a better place, one boat at a time.
* The Italian Yacht Club ~ ed.
[slideshow]
Today I paddled from Porto Stefano to Porto Ercole. I intended to go much farther, but I was beat. I don't know why, but I couldn't paddle five minutes without wanting a break.Argentario used to be an island, roads now connect it to the mainland making it a big peninsula. It's an amazing place. The usual fantastic woods, small islands just offshore, mighty cliffs, and deep sea caves.
Today I paddled into my first sea cave, large enough to get my entire boat in with plentyof room to spare. I had a look around the cavern. The water was calm, clear, and a lighter shade of blue. The ceiling rose high above me and from the center, I could see just about all of it. There were two entrances. On my way out I sang, adding "explorer extraordinare" to my list of attributes.
An old fisherman was talking to me from his boat and I told him I didn't understand Italian. That didn't stop him. He went right on telling me things. I was worried that he was trying to warn me of some fatal danger ahead.
Instead of dying, I caught a fish. I had it on my line and tried to pull it in. I couldn't, it wasstuck on my rudder. I dragged it behind me until I could pull over. There were seagulls flying overhead so I tried explaining to them that it would be very rude of them to take my fish from behind my boat. Since this had little effect I tried yelling like a crazy man.
I finally found a tiny private port to pull over in. I straightened out my fish and spoke to the men working on the house above. All I needed for the night, and I was ready to call it a day, was water. I would ask for water and permission to sleep by the small dock, tell my story, and hope for greater hospitality.
The man working on the house said that he could not give me water because he was just working there. He added that the owner of the house was the queen of Holland and was not home right now. At least, she was not in this one.
I got back in my boat and paddled some more. I kept the fish in the water along side theboat hoping this would keep it fresh.
When I got to port, steering clear of coast guard run Capianteria, I found the yacht clubclubhouse and asked if I could sleep there. The answer was no. There were a few old guys seated outside talking, so I tried standing around looking pathetic for a while. One of them pointed to a large fishing boat and suggested that I might be allowed to sleep there.
No thanks. I went back to my kayak and began setting up for another evening of sleep-in- hiding. A boat pulled up and the man aboard spoke English. We chatted as he disembarked and closed up. I showed him my catch of the day. He looked at it and said he caught one like that too. He used as bait for this. He held up a giant red sea monster, at least a hundred pounds. He brought it up from a depth of a hundred meters. Tokyo can now rest easy.
He also mentioned that there is a Lega Navale* here in town. I followed his directions to a man who said that I could sleep here. Let me use the internet, and gave me that which I treasure above all, a welcoming smile.
The Coast Guard ports in Italy are unfriendly places of motor bureaucracy. Lega Navale Italiano is company of men and woman who are making the world a better place, one boat at a time.
* The Italian Yacht Club ~ ed.
[slideshow]
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