Volcanic heart of Europe - Isole Eolie

A season-ending cruise always has something special about it. The first signs of autumn can already be felt in the air, the marinas are calm, and the water still holds the memory of the summer sun. This year our fleet, made up of two Dufour 470 yachts, set sail from Portorosa, located on the northern coast of Sicily. Getting to the marina wasn’t the easiest — a two-hour transfer from the airport can be tiring — but a pleasant surprise awaited us on arrival. Since it was already the end of the season, the yacht check-in went exceptionally smoothly. Both boats were ready to sail, and the whole marina still pulsed with the last breath of the sailing year. We divided the crews between the two yachts, each led by a skipper I had personally trained — a comforting thought that the fleet was in good hands.

Our plan was to reach Messina first, where two missing crew members were scheduled to join us on Sunday. To make it there on time, we left Portorosa the same day, heading toward Milazzo. The evening came quickly — at this time of year, the sun dips below the horizon around seven. We reached Milazzo after dark, maneuvering through a tight marina. Despite the limited space, we managed to moor longside — always a satisfying task with nearly fifty-foot yachts. The next morning, we cast off and set a course for Messina. Along the way, we passed yachts competing in the Rolex Middle Sea Race — gliding over the water with precision and speed. We gave way, admiring their coordination and skill. The Strait of Messina, known for its strong currents, demanded focus, but that day the sea was on our side — the flow helped us both entering and leaving the marina.

Once the missing crew members joined us, the fleet was complete. After a short briefing, we decided to sail back west toward the southern bay of Vulcano — the perfect place to start exploring the archipelago. A night passage awaited us, which we greeted with excitement. Navigation lights, silence broken only by the sound of water, and a cup of hot tea created that familiar sailing atmosphere — the moment when everything unnecessary is left behind on land.

At sunrise, as the island of Vulcano glowed in golden light, we split into groups and headed for the western shore. We moored to small pontoons by the rocky coast and began our trek to the crater’s summit — short but intense. The view from the top was breathtaking. The sun lit up the smoking ridges, the air smelled of sulfur, and the colors of the rocks shifted from black to orange and yellow. From above, the entire archipelago was visible — to the west Alicudi and Filicudi, then Lipari, and behind it Salina with the highest peak of the Aeolian Islands. To the east lay Panarea, and in the distance, like a lighthouse at the end of the world, Stromboli sent its steady plume of smoke into the sky. From that height, we felt as though we were looking at our whole week of sailing laid out before us.

That evening, using the yachts’ outdoor grills, we decided to host a joint dinner on the sterns. After a quick shopping stop, we set course for the southern bay of Panarea, arriving just after sunset — the perfect time to start the evening together. A warm night, calm water, and two illuminated yachts rafted up side by side. Because the boats were identical, we had to tie them slightly offset — about two meters apart — to prevent the masts from touching in the swell caused by passing ferries.

The next day promised a steady breeze from the south, so we planned a full day of sailing. After a short stop at the island of Basiluzzo, where we anchored near monumental rock formations, we had lunch with a view of volcanic cliffs. Anchoring in this area required attention — the seabed drops sharply and is full of rocks and boulders. We let out plenty of chain but didn’t tighten the anchor fully, and during the night we kept anchor watches to make sure everything stayed secure.

By evening we reached Stromboli. After sunset, we sailed along the volcano’s northern slopes to watch the spectacle of nature from a safe distance. Every few minutes, red bursts lit up the black sky, and glowing rocks tumbled down toward the sea. The rumble that followed was like the earth itself speaking. It was one of those experiences impossible to compare to anything else — night sailing in silence, illuminated by lava, pure beauty and humility before nature.

After taking in the view, we set a course for Salina. A westerly wind, gusting up to fifteen knots, allowed us to sail close-hauled, enjoying every moment under canvas. The sky was clear, the sea calm — a classic autumn night of sailing. We arrived around two in the morning, tired but content.

In the morning, we set out to climb the volcano — the highest point of the entire Aeolian Islands. Nearly a thousand meters of elevation gain over just four and a half kilometers. The ascent was steep and demanding, muddy in places, with wooden steps and rocky sections. After two hours of climbing, we reached the summit — unfortunately shrouded in clouds. Volcanoes have their own weather. There was no view, but the sense of accomplishment was immense. The descent, slippery after rain, was even harder, but each of us felt we had conquered more than just a mountain.

In the afternoon, once the rain stopped, we hoisted the sails and set course west toward Filicudi. Another evening passage, another moment when sea and sky melt into one. We moored late, exhausted but happy, and fell asleep almost immediately.

The next day, we sailed toward Lipari, planning to stay for two nights. On the way, we stopped in a small bay to swim, explore the rocks, and relax. We reached Lipari around three in the afternoon. The island welcomed us with calm — small, with the atmosphere of an Italian town where time slows down. Some of the crew rented scooters and circled the island, discovering viewpoints and quiet beaches. The marina, sheltered from western winds, turned out to be a perfect choice — the wind picked up during the day, but we could rest peacefully.

The following morning, after refueling at a rather choppy fuel dock, we headed south toward Sicily, looking for a calm bay for our final night. We found a sandy spit sheltered from the waves, where the sea was smooth as glass. The temperature was still high, so we spent the day swimming, diving, and walking through a sleepy coastal village.

On the last day before returning to Portorosa, we decided to end the season in true sailing style — we tied the yachts together with halyards and started an impromptu game. One person from each crew held the line between the boats, and as the yachts drifted apart, the brave ones were launched into the air before splashing into the water. There couldn’t have been a better way to finish the season.

We returned to Portorosa calmly, just two miles from where it all began. The yacht check-out went smoothly, and the charter staff, as always, did an excellent job. As we boarded the pre-arranged transfer to the airport, we all felt the same — sadness that it was over, and satisfaction that it had been a complete and fulfilling voyage.