Mission Improbable

Leaving Formentera this morning in the dark, against a lee shore, in twenty knots, was our best situation in days. All we had to do was dodge the lightning bolts. At least we could squeeze in five hours of sleep before the north wind kicked up the waves. The night before, our anchorage had a punishing swell wrapping around the cliffs – the cliffs that we thought would protect us from the southerlies. It was impossible to get any shuteye in that roll. And now? Well, now we’re bobbing aimlessly in 9.1 knots from behind while a squall squats to starboard. Even with the jib poled out opposite the stay in a wing-on-wing formation, there’s not enough wind to get Gerty going. We planned to be in Cartagena in twenty hours, but at this rate, we’ll be there in a week!
The best way to shake my grumpy mood is to dive into writing about something good. Before the lightning storm in Sardinia and after we caught a trap on our centerboard enroute to Sicily, there was about a week in Trapani that is just perfect for a story.
Rich Hutchinson, better known as Hutch, is our main character. He’s an agent. MI6, 007, or one of the Jason Bourne guys – I can never tell the difference, but you get the point.

He’s just flown in from Brussels and his mission is top secret.  Our job is to whisk him away in twenty knots on the beam to the Egadi Islands. 

Our first stop is an old jail that the Sicilians claim is a castle (Castello di Punta Troia.) 

Giovanni is our contact. 

He fills us in on all the political prisoners that were hidden away in the dungeons there and Michael and I are sent below to look for clues.  I can’t find anything but the willies. (Willies: a creepy sensation that makes one shiver)

It’s not until we’re back in the Marettimo anchorage that Hutch engages in his first mission.  It’s an emergency dinghy rescue.  A young family’s motor dies on the way to shore and their paddling is hopeless in the strong winds.  Agent Hutch and my captain make a mad dash in our dinghy, Love Bug, and tow their clients to safety.

Little do we know Hutch’s second mission is on the horizon.  This time it’s a boat hook rescue in Favignana.  A casualty of this type would be devastating because without a boat hook one cannot pick up a mooring.  Hutch, understanding the graveness of the situation, gallantly hangs his limbs over Gerty’s port side and snatches it out of the ocean.  This guy is too much!  We need to celebrate his chivalry Italian style – panella and aperol spritz all around.

On our third day together, our hero tries to solve the case of the lost goggles at Cala Rossa but the bad guys (dressed as girls in thong bikinis) throw him off the trail and we are forced to abort the mission.  Mercifully, the sticky humid weather lifts, and we are able to nurse our egos in the crisp, dry air.

We all get our mojo back on the stellar sail back to Trapani, and it’s a good thing because the Erice mission is our final task.  First, we take the cable car to the mountain village and I half expect the gold-toothed Jaws villain (see James Bond movies The Spy Who Loved Me, 1977 and Moonraker, 1979) to be hanging from the wire. 

I’m relieved that he doesn’t show up to fight us in transit but this doesn’t make what we see at the top any less shocking.  Race cars!  Hundreds of flashy-colored, mufflerless race cars!  One sexier than the next! (If you like this kind of thing.)

I make the mistake of going window shopping in lieu of standing next to unzipped hairy chested men on the sidelines and this is when Hutch jumps into the yellow roadster for the Monte Erice Hill Climb. 

Michael and I watch him race from atop the Castello di Venere and, rest assured, he leaves his opponents in the dust.  In the end, Hutch gets the authentic pasta and gelato con panna dinner that we all crave and I feel good about sending him back to his wife in one piece.

Side note: small liberties may have been taken by the writer of this blog to embellish the truth:)