Episode 26: Swabbing the deck at the island of cabbages, to believe in your dreams…
We anchored last night below Isola dei Cavoli, at the very southern tip of Sardinia. It was the girls' first stop too in 1925, reached in a single run from La Maddalena, malaria having discouraged them from landing on that beautiful island with its inhospitable east coast.
In 1925, Pa'Choum (Marthe), shipmate to Miette and Kini, asked at the opening of her book Quand j'étais matelot: what do young girls dream of? And what about us, a century later? A large moth, a hawk-moth, which came to hide on a bi-kini, prompts us to let you in on a few mysteries.
It is deeply moving to find ourselves anchored below this island of cabbages (Isola dei Càvoli) and to think that tomorrow we will round Capo Sant'Elia before putting in at Cagliari, and that, just as they did, we will sit down to a good meal washed down with Chianti.
And yet it has to be said that it will never be the same voyage, nor even quite the same route. Nothing is the same any more, not the places, not the boats, not the people. In this magnificent spot you need earplugs to shut out an insistent night club, and drawn curtains to shield you from the dazzling LEDs of the resort at Villasimius.
So it really is our own voyage, with ourselves and towards our own dreams, that we are making by following in their track.
Ponyo, for whom this is a first real passage at sea, is preparing for the theory exam of her offshore licence.
Flash and Jumpy are banking part of the 1,000 nautical miles they need to validate their Swiss licence.
While waiting on medical results, Sunny, who has sailed four seas and four oceans of the globe, is recharging by savouring the beauty of the island and the ease of life aboard.
Dyna, our skipper, nicknamed Yoda for the expedition, is like Ella. She is already on the lookout for our next dream boat to charter (or borrow?) so the Bonitas' adventure can carry on, first in Sicily, then in Greece.
As for me, I managed to catch my first bout of seasickness trying to match the terse notes in Bonita's logbooks against today's charts and apps. I feel thousands of miles from the feat Miette pulled off with the sextant lent to her by the English (which they would give back at their second meeting in Greece, having recovered in Sicily the one belonging to Leopold de Saussure, her father, a naval officer).
So to console yourself for the hard life of an apprentice deckhand, there is nothing better than taking up the swab.
Three cheers for the swabber girls!
In seafaring language, a swab is a yarn mop used to wash or dry the decks and the various parts of a boat. The sailor charged with this task was known as a swabber.
Our inspirations used this long-haired mop to wet down their dinghy (named Bécarre and drawn by Miette) and to clean the deck, before throwing great buckets of seawater over their backs by way of a shower. And speaking of which, it is time for a big splash. The water is 28 degrees and shoals of small fish are darting around the boat.
The dream is right here. You only have to open your eyes and dare.
Signed, the Bonitas
Sardinia, Italy, 14 September 2026
A swab and cabbages