Shots fired in week one. What else might Sardinia have in store for us?

The chart does say "firing practice area" and there was quite a lot of chatter over the VHF radio in Italian. Jo was sure they were talking to another boat. But no. Allora! They were talking to us.

We’re on Islola di San Pietro, a very small island off the southern most tip of Sardinia. Standing population, 6000, many of them tied up in nautical industries, fishing or, as the weather hots up, tending to the tourists arriving on car ferries tail-gating each other to and fro’ across the bay.

The sea sets the stage for life here. Most of the school-aged kids attend the maritime high school and many, we’re told, end up as ship’s crew, engineers and captains, more still in maritime services. Some, for sure, end up on military vessels. We met a few naval personnel only recently.

Okay, okay. It is true that the chart for the Golfo Di Palmas (below) carries a warning, AVVERTENZE - CAUTIONARY NOTES, and goes on the explain that the areas around Capos Frasca and Teulada are used for military firing practice. But everyone we’d met sailing in the area seemed remarkably chilled. Chin, chin! Ciao, ciao!

Really, what are the odds that anyone is going to want to loose a few heavy artillery rounds on a sunny Monday afternoon in May?

Our plan (in blue) was to sail from Porto Teulada, around Capo Frasca down to Port Pino, which was well protected from the sou’ easterlies we had to deal with and the boysterous northerlies forecast for the following day.

The red circle shows our position when we were approached at very high speed by a naval patrol boat. Those things can shift and no one drives that fast if they’re paying for their own gas! In the military, they like to call these moments interdictions. The Italian, interdiziones, sounds much less painful. So, yes, we were royally interdizionioed by a patrol boat right up our tail pipe, half a boat length behind us as we sailed along in 16 knots, and barking at Jo over the radio for us to change our course west to 280 - 290º. And, “rapido, veloce”, to go faster!

I didn’t know why.

Italian naval patrol boat coming our way at full tilt.

Were we being escorted to a military port across the bay on suspicion of drug running? Did we short-change Fabritzio, the winemaker, at Teulada’s lunar markets three hours earlier by mistake? Is he the Generalissimo’s cousin?

Then we heard them.

The dull thuds of live artillery fire coming from the sand dunes of Porto Pino in the distance. Not so distant though that we couldn’t see the sand raised high into the air around the firing site (marked green on the chart).

Aah! Thankfully, pennies dropped and not shells. So, these sunny Monday’s in May are in fact bellissima e dolce for military target practice. “See Italian annual summary”, says the chart. What kind of idiota ignores an explicit instruction like that?

Luckily we’re flying an English flag so the reputation of Australian seafarers has not been besmirched.

So far, we’ve only explored 30 miles to the east of Carloforte as we wait to get our visas sorted in the carpark of the ferry terminal on Saturday morning (a story for next week perhaps). But it’s been a joy to stay local.

Blood may be thicker than salty mediterranean water, but only just around here. The community rhymes to the sea, the wind and waves, and the opportunities, every month or so, to herd schools of tuna, some weighing 300 kilograms each, into Carloforte’s famous tonnare. It’s amazing what can be done with nets, anchors, rowing boats and brute strength after thousands of years of practice.

The people here are proud, welcoming and warm. And quick to point out they’re not really Italian, they’re Sardinian. Sardinia was once its own kingdom and has its own flag to say so, loud and clear, a symbol of hard won position dating back to the Crusades, hence the cross of St George. We have one on these flags on the boat and now that we’re better acquainted with locals and local customs, we’ve hoisted it right under the Italian courtesy flag as a mark of respect.

To find the true pulse of the southern Sardinian locals we’ve been to two separate market days in the past week. Besides finding Basil, the potted herb and new shipmate at Carloforte’s Wednesday market we met Bruno, purveyor of the most delicious Pecorino that you’ve ever tasted, a traditional hard, salty and crumbly sheep’s cheese favoured by discerning cheese eaters and the lactose intolerant. We bought a quarter of a wheel and we’re yet to get half way through it, despite gnawing away three meals a day.

Bruno had plenty of cheesy treats on display.

At Teulada’s lunar markets we found local vegetables including green tomatoes, olive oil, white wine, red wine and sausage. Mamma mia!

Fresh market produce to fuel our Med diet.

None of it dressed up and designed for presentation like only the Italians can (Ferrari, Prada, Armani, D&G) but real, honest and raw. The wine decanted into re-used 1.5l water bottles, olive oil pressed locally and sold in much the same agricultural way.

Substance over form.

Tomorrow the Tuna Festival - Girotonno - begins, Carloforte’s annual knees up to celebrate the red tuna for which the island remains famous, and good fortune with daily tuna fishing competitions, great food, wine and music.

Elletra Lamborghini from the Lamborghini family takes to the main Tuna stage on opening night, with stand up comedian Uccio De Santis on Friday night, and legendary guitarist, Umberto Tozzi, headlining on Saturday.

We don’t know these people, but they’re sure to be amazing. As they say, when in Rome (or Carloforte). Jo and I will be packed into the pogare (moshpit) like true locals, and, faithful to the fishy festival theme, like sardines.

Smooth sailing until next time,

Craig and Jo xxx