That is about as close to another boat as I have ever come except for that time off Australia so many months ago. My neophyte crew member had been on watch as we sailed briskly from Cairns. When I came out into the cockpit he said: " There is a ship up ahead". Assuming that "up ahead" implied a certain distance, I didn’t immediately jump to panic stations. I should have! A second later we whizzed by a large, tattered old fishing boat which looked like it might be en route to deliver some refugees to the Australian wilderness. We missed it by a whisker!

Before long the somewhat barren looking Roman coast line began to match the pictures in my guide book. I was getting close to the mouth of the river Fiumicino. This used to be the port for ancient Rome but now is used only by fishing boats and small yachts which berth in a tight little marina which had no room for NANOU. I would have to go up river. Approaching the Tiber river was an exciting moment – one I had dreamed of for the past three years. I always joked I’d finally sink in sight of Rome.

"If I sink now I technically still would have made it to Rome". After so much sailing, so many close calls and lucky escapes, what if NANOU had suddenly called it quits and submarined just a few hundred meters from this major milestone? I guess I would have packed a waterproof bag with a few papers and photographs – and my coconut curry mix – and rowed to shore in the dinghy – leaving my home of almost 7 years to wallow in the murky Italian waves.

But NANOU wasn’t the least bit in trouble and we rounded the Tiber river entrance after getting permission from the Capitaneria di Porto via radio. Apparently I had to hurry as there was a bridge opening up in a few minutes.

I clanged NANOU’s old ship’s bell to celebrate her arrival in Rome and a few fishermen looked up from darning their nets. One waved, pointed at NANOU’s Australian flag and gave me a thumbs up. The little bridge creaked and buzzed and slowly opened up for me. All traffic stopped to let old NANOU chug past. If boats had hearts, NANOU's would have sped up a little.

As I motored further up river, the river narrowed and the little rustic town of Fiumicino sprang up around me. It all felt wonderfully cozy and familiar. There was a Macelleria, a Cartoleria, a Pesceria, various Tabaccaii and all the other usual stores I had grown up around.

The next bridge came into view and I judged it to be too low for NANOU to cross under. We wouldn’t be able to get any closer to Rome. I began to scan the river banks for a place to dock NANOU. My stomach soon chose a wide-open area opposite the Pizza Rustica. There wasn’t a soul to catch my lines so I left the motor in forward and scrambled up to shore midship rope in hand. As NANOU crept forward, I slipped the line through one of the giant cast iron rings that line the Tiber and brought the end with me back to NANOU. Tightening this one line drew NANOU snuggly against the river wall. I stopped to think how much more difficult single-handed docking (and sailing) used to be before I made all the mistakes and suffered all the minor disasters that, in retrospect, one calls "experience".

So there I was, "so near yet so far". I had entered the Roman river and gone as far up river as my tall mast allowed. Now I was tied up to the Tiber banks feeling dissatisfied. I was in Fiumicino – a suburb of Rome – not Rome. Not a single old friend or relative had met me (how could they I hadn’t told them when I was arriving) and I didn’t feel as though I had truly arrived in the real Rome. I needed to see 2000 year old ruins and 600 year old buildings in order to prove that I had finally made it back to my birth place. So I donned my "survival" jacket, lowered the rubber dinghy, took along an extra can of gasoline and struck out for down town.

It was a strange trip up the murky river. The Tiber is not used for navigation except near its mouth (and then only as a parking place). I stopped to ask a fishermen if he knew how many miles it was to Rome. He scratched his head, curled his lower lip in the typical Roman fashion that shows puzzlement and told me he didn’t know but that he wasn’t sure I could get into Rome this way... Thus encouraged I whizzed on. My old dinghy motor was enjoying its day out after many months of disuse. The surroundings soon changed from suburban to the small shipyards where small yachts are worked on. I slowed down to avoid making too much of a wake only to speed up again as I entered the Italian "bush". I was amazed. This was a world most Romans and I never knew existed. The Tiber river wound its way towards Rome through green fields and shady meadows. All kinds of birds stood on the banks – storks, cranes, doves, pigeons and gulls of a zillion types. Except for the colour of the water, we could have been in a wild life reserve in S. Africa! As I rounded a bend the river up ahead was totally white as far as the eye could see. A huge flock of birds was resting on the calm waters and, as I approached, they took to the air -- a vast blur of feathers and beaks, curved claws and screeching beaks. I laughed and yelled to match their squawks. I felt happy and privileged to be living this adventure on the edges of the stifling metropolis of Rome.

On I buzzed, occasionally throwing the tiller hard over to avoid a floating bottle or piece of plastic – yes Rome was getting closer. I passed two huge sewers spewing their lethal contents straight into the river – "no wonder no one comes here!" I hadn’t yet touched the water in any way and now felt very glad about that!

Within minutes a familiar bridge came into view – this was already the center of Rome! I was unsure exactly where I was and felt a bit disoriented so I blundered on until a waterfall blocked my progress. "How am I supposed to get passed that?! I’m not a salmon!"

I thought my mission was compromised but motoring about I soon found a little side canal that bypassed the waterfall. I was back en route for Roma!

Soon the surroundings began to look terribly familiar. This was indeed the center of Rome – I was at the Isola Tiberina (the Tiber Island ) which is near Trastevere where my sister lives. People were looking down at me from an ancient ruined bridge and from the scaffolding of a building being restored on the island. I approached the island only to find yet another waterfall – this time smaller – blocking my way. There was no side route this way but one of the workers shouted something and gesticulated at me. I wasn’t sure but I thought he meant that I could jump the waterfall with sufficient speed. It seemed worth trying as I was SO close to parking in ancient Rome!