Castellammare di Stabia sits on the ruins of ancient Stabiae, the Roman resort town buried by Vesuvius in 79 AD. Sailors have used this bay for two thousand years — and the water you anchor in tonight is the same blue those Romans wrote home about.

Capri’s Faraglioni are three sea stacks that rise straight out of the Tyrrhenian, and the arch between two of them is where every sailor wants a photo. You do not visit Capri from a ferry — you anchor beneath it, swim off the transom and watch the light change on the cliffs. That is the whole itinerary.

The Tyrrhenian breeze locals call the maestral arrives almost like clockwork after lunch, gives you a few hours of perfect sailing, then dies at sunset. Plan your hops around it and you look like a genius — and your evenings end in glassy, silent water.

A catamaran this size does not heel, does not roll and does not rush. Your morning coffee stays in the cup, your guests stay in a good mood, and the skipper gets to look like the calmest person on the Tyrrhenian.

Solar panels on a charter yacht are not a gadget — they are the reason your evenings are silent. The fridge, the air conditioning and the lights run off the sun, so the generator stays off and the anchorage stays as quiet as the day you arrived.