Once a year I sail away to Sicily with some friends. What we do there should be a great secret. We are sworn not to divulge any detail to our wives. In fact there is nothing to divulge to anyone except our growing expertise in il bel far niente.
The whole point is to get away from it all and do blessed nothing in good company for five days or so. I recommend it. Some drink, some don’t. Some wash with admirable scruple and others don’t bother. We are a tolerant crew.
For a while we are allowed to forget that we are husbands and fathers, that we have professional responsibilities: five men all over fifty leaving it all behind for a short while. On the eight hour passage out, everything is set right by the night sky: time and space regain their true meaning under an infinity of stars reflected in an endless sea. I enjoy my four hour watch: the sound of the wind in the sails and the sea rushing past.
Syracuse has become our home port away from home. We know what we want and where to find it: great restaurants and the open air market where we shop for our feast of fish and seafood. There are superb cooks among us.
On just one day we concede to tourism and have ourselves driven to some part of Sicily we have not yet visited. Nothing strenuous, no rush: a stroll here, a coffee there, sometimes a volcano, sometimes a temple, a lake or a forest. All viewed gently, with mild curiosity. If a plan has to be changed or simply goes phut, it’s never a tragedy.
In no time at all we must think of the return passage. Back to business but first the passage itself. Heeling over in bright sunshine doing a steady seven knots is nothing short of glorious. I could do that forever. The Sicilian coast disappears and then appears once more for a final farewell before the open sea.
The dolphins don’t seem to mind the loud music in the cockpit. They came to play in the bow wave this year also and turned the conversation to talk of their growing numbers and of whales in the Med. It’s not all melting icecaps.
