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2005

Rome

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First to appear were the powerful square sails – the top sails and gallants. They were followed by the triangular jibs attached to the bowsprit. And lastly, the spanker.

We were sailing on the Royal Clipper, the world's largest passenger sailing ship, headed due south across the Tyrrhenian Sea to Sicily. There's something about sailing that casts a spell. The sound of wind in the rigging and the creaking of the lines against the woodwork are both comforting and exciting. Sailing craft are simply more beautiful, so much more nautical even, than ships powered only by engines.

Some years ago, the romance of the clipper ship had cast its spell on Mikael Krafft, the owner of Royal Clipper and its smaller sister ships, Star Clipper and Star Flyer. He grew up in Stockholm, Sweden, just a few hundred feet from the Plyms Shipyard, considered one of the world's finest shipbuilders. He did odd jobs at the yard and heard tales from the older workers of the great sailing ships that had dominated the seas in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

One of those ships, the Preussen, was the world's first five-mast, full-rigged sailing vessel. Young Krafft dreamed of owning such a ship someday.

In 1991 his dream came true with the launching of the 360-foot-long, 4-masted Star Clipper. Then in 2000 came the ultimate sailing ship, Royal Clipper, built to match the design of the impeccable Preussen with an incredible 56,000 square feet of sail. Royal Clipper is 439 feet long and accommodates 227 passengers and 105 crew members.

No rundown windjammer, Royal Clipper is a luxurious cruise ship with the soul of a private yacht. While matching the 20-knot-plus speeds of the turn-of-the-century clipper ships (so-called because they "clipped" time from ocean passages), Royal Clipper is much easier to sail and much more comfortable for passengers and crew.

Sails are made of Dacron instead of heavy canvas, and tapered steel masts replaced the extremely heavy sectional wooden masts of yesteryear. A patented square-sail furling system alleviates the need for crew to go aloft while under way to shorten sail. Only 20 crew members can handle sailing and navigation tasks, the remaining crew operates the engine, air conditioning and water-desalination system and takes care of the feeding and handling of the passengers.

In our comfortable cabin, my husband, Steve, and I managed to stow all of the contents of our luggage in the cleverly designed drawers and closet, and we tucked our suitcases under the queen-size bed. The marble-floored bathroom was larger than the one in our three-star hotel in Rome (think RV size); there was a writing desk, a small wall-mounted television showing movies and news in three languages, and two portholes.

We sailed overnight, gently rocking on a sea as smooth as butter. It seemed I had barely shut my eyes when I was startled awake by the announcement, "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, the required safety drill is about to begin at 10 a.m."

We had overslept and missed breakfast. It would be one of the few meals we missed. The casually elegant dining room in a three-story atrium was the centerpiece of the ship. Chef Rudy (Rodolfo Soledad) from the Philippines directed a galley staff of 16 who came up with eye-appealing and great-tasting buffets for breakfast and lunch daily and a delightful dinner menu with at least three choices for entrees, appetizers and deserts.

Besides the sailing, other angles that make Star Clippers different from most cruise lines are itineraries featuring out-of-the-way or less-popular ports of call and an emphasis on water sports. In the stern of Royal Clipper was a sports platform that lowered when the ship was at anchor in good weather. From there, the young Swedish sports team launched diving expeditions, sea kayaks, water skis and a banana boat. None of our ports of call were commercial tourist spots – no merchants, taxi drivers or beggars massed around passengers as they went ashore. In fact, some ports were so low-key, it was difficult to find open shops or restaurants.

Activities aboard ship are somewhat low-key as well compared with large cruise ships. There were no Las Vegas-style shows or gambling, but there were opportunities for climbing the mast, learning knot tying, shopping for Royal Clipper-branded clothing in the Sloop Shop, and getting a Thai massage in the tiny spa. The bartenders in particular were very talented, and when they weren't serving drinks, they were entertaining the passengers with singing and dancing. My favorite shipboard activity was riding in the bowsprit netting. Suspended between the sea and sky, I felt like I was flying over the inky blue waves.

After a night and day at sea, we arrived at our first port of call, Favignana, a rugged island off the northwest coast of Sicily. The island is known for tuna fishing and quarries of limestone. We saw evidence of both.

Wanting to get exercise to work off any cruising calories, we rented rusty but functional mountain bikes and pedaled around much of the perimeter of the island.

By the time we took the tender back to Royal Clipper after our bike ride and a hearty Sicilian pasta lunch, the wind had picked up considerably, making it a challenge to get back aboard the ship from the tender wallowing in the heavy surf. These waves were a sign of what was to come.

It was a gale, all night long as we made our way down to Malta. The captain decided to skip the scheduled stop at Gozo, Malta's outer island, as the seas were too rough for the tenders to safely take people ashore there. Royal Clipper sailed into Valletta, the capital of Malta, as the winds started to settle down. I could still see the waves crashing over the breakwaters.

But if any city could tame the storm, Valletta could. An amazing fortress built of yellow limestone on a rocky promontory, Valletta has withstood attacks throughout the ages. This is where the Knights of St. John held off the Turks in 1565. It remains a mysterious city laced with circuitous stone passageways and many churches. While geographically Malta appears to be part of Italy, politically and culturally it is independent. Maltese and English are the official languages and driving is on the left.

Leaving Malta in much calmer weather, we sailed back to Sicily overnight to Siracusa, the city built by the ancient Greeks in 733 B.C. In its Greek city-state heyday, Siracusa boasted a population of 120,000, the same as today as it rests in relative obscurity.

Steve and I loved this city with its brightly painted facades, modern churches built on top of the foundations of ancient Greek temples, and a harbor filled with a battered fishing fleet and children playing a version of water polo in sea kayaks.

There were a variety of restaurants and craft shops tucked away in unexpected corners. In one of these shops we met Catti, a young ceramic artist who was celebrating the second month of her shop's opening. Even though she spoke no English and my Italian is limited to a few travel phrases, we managed to introduce ourselves, bargain over several small pieces, and talk about her hopes of visiting the United States.

We conveyed to her that we hoped to return to her city. Both the disadvantage and the advantage of cruising is that it gives you just a taste of numerous destinations – bad to have to limit the visit to only a few hours, but giving enough of a taste to leave you wanting to return for more.

Sailing northward in the evening, we could see snow-capped Mount Etna off our port bow. A few wisps of steam seemed to be venting from its distant crater.

We awoke the next morning to a day of full sunshine off the coast of Panerea, one of the beautiful Aeolian Islands north of Sicily. The stark cliffs and whitewashed houses in the villages are reminiscent of the Greek Islands. It's a great island for walking, with several marked trails and walking routes signed with distances in walking time with notes of degrees of difficulty.

We decided to walk to some prehistoric ruins about three miles from the harbor. We passed by many white houses with bright flower gardens and a quaint chapel facing the sea. A cafe en route provided a relaxing cappuccino break. Then we walked along a rocky beach and then up to a ridge overlooking dazzling blue waters to a promontory with remains of rocky foundations built by people no longer remembered. In the cove below, there were several boats at anchor from which naked German men on holiday were diving and swimming.

Back aboard, I sipped a Planter's Punch expertly prepared by Trevor, the Jamaican bartender. Shortly after sailing away from Panerea, we were treated to a close pass by Stromboli, one of the world's most active volcanoes. As I focused my camera on the mountain, it erupted with a dense cloud of black smoke. We could see rock and ash tumble down the steep slope into the sea with a hiss.

That night was the Captain's Dinner with lobster tail, baked Alaska and a champagne toast. We shared a table with three other couples we had become friendly with and toasted our success in choosing an excellent cruise. How could we ask for more? We had friends, exotic ports and a tall ship biting through the wind under a star-streaked sky.