The Semi-Destination

You may have noticed that there are lots of route options along the way, but there is one thing that is a constant: the need to go to Malta.

Not sure how I acquired the burning need to sail into Malta, but I remember being about 5 years old and dreaming of sailing into Malta's main port. I must have been affected by the stories of early Turkish sailors.



The world knows these "Turkish sailors" by a different name: pirates. Specifically, Pirates of the Barbary Coast. Essentially, the pirates that inhabited the northern coast of Africa joined forces under the Ottoman flag and kicked ass in the Mediterranean for a few centuries starting in the 1500's. These guys are so awesome that they deserve their own separate post, so I'll save that for later, but for now, the relevant point is that the one island they tried to capture but could not, the one area where they failed, was Malta.

Juan Mas

Turgut Reis actually died during the ill-fated siege of Malta, along with approximately 50000 Ottoman sailors. Some of you may have heard of Turgut Reis under his Western moniker, the dreaded "Dragut." He is the subject of many annual reenactments in Mallorca because of a minor victory they had over him. It's like the time Michael Jordan wasn't paying attention and someone, let's call him Juan Mas, jumped up and took the ball, and for the next 350 frigging years, his descendants have a 3-month long fiesta and celebration of the one time they snatched an airball from Michael Jordan. And they erect giant statues to Juan Mas, whose only accomplishment, as far as I can understand it, was to run back screaming to his home town. That's how cool and awe-inspiring Dragut was. In any case, let's leave the Mallorcan events aside; in Malta, Dragut was defeated fair and square by 5000 or so knights who defended the main castle.


Incidentally, the defenders are also cool enough to get their own post some day. They're known as the Knights Hospitaller of the Order of St. John (aka Knights of St. John, aka Knights Hospitaller, aka Knights of Malta, aka Knights of Rhodes) and are connected to a force of chaveliers left behind in Jerusalem during the Crusades. They ultimately moved to the area around Rhodes, Halicarnassos and Loryma. When the Ottoman navy overtook Rhodes, they had to flee the Rhodes area and leave behind their awesome castle in Bodrum/Halicarnassos. The King of Spain granted them safe harbor in Malta, reportedly for the paltry sum of two Maltese falcons per year. The Maltese falcons are now endangered, and probably extinct, with the last sighting in the wild back in the mid-1980's. As far as I can tell, there is nothing special about a Maltese falcon -- it's not even a separate species, they're regular falcons and they don't even live in Malta anymore. The king must have instituted a yearly token gift exchange just to remind the knights who the big boss is. Sort of like the secret Santa big corporations love to hold around Christmas time to boost spirits, except it's only one way, it's not anonymous and both sides know exactly who needs to feel indebted to whom. In any case, the upshot is that the name, Maltese Falcon, sounds supremely cool. Actually, Maltese anything sounds very cool.

The chief knight who defended Malta against Dragut was a fellow named Valletta. The capital of Malta is now named after him.

The crescendo of this trip will be reached when I sail into Valletta, Malta with the kite up. If it's not a windy day, I plan to motor out and then sail back in until I can enter the port with the kite up. That's how Dragut would have wanted it (also, cannons firing, but I don't have room for those on a mini).