Sailing
#18 – From Sicily to Sardinia
The other side of Sardinia
We crossed from Favignana, the small island just west of Sicily. It took us one day and eight hours to sail nonstop across 155 nautical miles (287 kilometers) to Sardinia. The crossing was comfortable overall. Unfortunately, the wind dropped to just 3–8 knots during the night, so we had to motorsail for a good portion. But on the bright side, it gave us a calm and relaxed night at sea.
Villasimius was our first stop in Sardinia, and its crystal-clear waters welcomed us warmly. But as often happens at sea, the idyll was short-lived. After a calm first day, the wind picked up, and we had to move to the eastern side of Villasimius for better shelter.
From there, we continued north, in longer stages than originally planned. Sardinia’s east coast is breathtaking, but it offers little protection from the constant swell, making anchoring and sleeping restless.
It soon became clear that the most beautiful bays in the north of Sardinia are taken over by the super rich and their superyachts, along with all their toy boats. From sunrise to sunset they create heavy swell in almost every anchorage. The movement was intense and made it nearly impossible to relax. On top of that, countless charter boats crowded the area, turning peaceful places into something more like floating parking lots or even whirlpools.
La Maddalena turned out to be the worst. We dropped anchor but stayed only 15 minutes. After a quick chat, some guests on a nearby yacht dropped their anchor right on top of ours. We had to put out fenders to prevent their large boat from damaging ours. That was enough. We decided to leave this crazy place. We can only imagine how beautiful it must be outside the main season.
So we continued sailing northwest in search of peace, and we found it in quiet bays far from the chaos. Luckily, our friends from Bazinga showed us a hidden anchorage tucked away in a quiet bay where charter boats usually don’t go. It was exactly what we needed. Peaceful and calm, even if the iconic turquoise water was missing.
Our boat is well equipped for life at anchor. We could easily spend weeks or even months away from marinas if we have enough food. But in Sardinia that became a real challenge. The few well protected anchorages were often far from any shops and we found ourselves often trekking through the heat or sailing closer to towns just to restock basic supplies
What disappointed us most was the feeling of many towns in the north. They seemed built only for tourists. No local charm, no real Italian vibe. Just flashy spots made for superyachts with expensive restaurants and cocktail bars. It felt soulless and not at all like the Italy we know or the kind of place we enjoy exploring.
Yet, despite everything, we look back on one of the most beautiful summers. With Markus, our loyal buddy sailor since 2021, and our new friends Vanessa and Simon, we shared unforgettable evenings, laughter, adventures, and friendships that will last.
Crossing from Favignana to Sardinia, 155 nautical miles in 32 hours.
Our friends Vanessa and Simon from Bazinga.
Guests on Board and Chaos at the Bow 
Toward the end of summer, we welcomed guests from Switzerland. Our friends Miriam, Andy, and their son Lenny joined us for a few days aboard Lumos. For Lenny, it was a big adventure, just the idea of sleeping on a sailboat thrilled him from the start. Together, we enjoyed relaxed evenings at anchor, shared good food, and had long conversations under the stars.
But life on board isn’t always idyllic, and our guests experienced that firsthand. Our anchor winch suddenly stopped working, and we had to improvise quickly. In a spontaneous emergency maneuver, we were forced to haul up the anchor by hand in gusts of over 25 knots (that is quite some wind for our light boat).
The bay we were anchored in was very narrow, almost like a river, which made it extremely difficult to keep the boat in place.
To make things even trickier, the only suitable anchoring spot was in the middle of the channel, where the depth was around 15 to 18 meters. We had more than 70 meters of chain out, and retrieving it manually was exhausting.
Luckily, a kind fellow sailor nearby saw we were in trouble. He jumped on his SUP and came over to help, something we were deeply grateful for. Unfortunately, they left the next day, and we didn’t catch their names. But if you’re reading this, thank you so, so much.
The next day, with the help of our friend Andy, we secured Lumos to a mooring buoy so we could take a closer look at the rebellious windlass without the risk of drifting off into the sunset. Andy and Burim had both studied engineering, so naturally, the ladies felt completely confident, what could possibly go wrong with that much competence on board?
The engineers took one look, scratched their heads thoughtfully, and did what any good engineer would do, they ordered a new electric motor. Problem not solved. But in the end, after some fiddling, headlamp action, and a few “aha!” moments, they actually managed to fix it. It was an intense but memorable experience, one that gave our guests a very real taste of sailing life.
Lenny, Andy and Burim.
Isola Tavolara, east of Olbia, a beautiful island. The island looks dramatic from a distance, with its steep cliffs rising straight out of the sea. We found a quiet spot to drop anchor, and despite being close to Olbia, it was pretty peaceful at night.
Anchored in Friendship
Friendship is the wind in our sails when the sea gets rough.
In early September, Marius and his girlfriend Elena came to visit. Marius already knew life on board, but for Elena, it was a first. Luckily, everything went smoothly this time, no technical problems, no surprises. We spent a few peaceful days at anchor, soaking in the calm of the sea, good company, and the simplicity of the moment.
By the end of August, we could feel summer slowly slipping away. The first storms swept across Sardinia, and the weather grew more unpredictable. With that came the time for goodbyes.
After more than seven months of shared adventures with Simon and Vanessa, and over four years of sailing alongside Markus, our paths finally parted.
The sea often brings people together again, but that doesn’t make goodbyes any easier, especially for us. We meet many people out here, but true friendships like these are rare. Saying goodbye to them was truly hard, with tears in our eyes and heavy hearts, we let go and said “see you later,” holding on to the hope that we’ll meet again.
We want to take this moment to express our deepest gratitude. Thank you for your friendship, for all the unforgettable moments, the honest conversations, and the time we shared, memories we’ll carry with us always.
With all these emotions still fresh, we set sail toward Corsica. We weren’t quite ready for the next chapter, but the journey had to go on.
