Sailing into the Wild Beauty of the Aeolian Islands

Arca Sailing

Sonia, co-founder of Arca Sailing, has been returning to the Aeolian Islands for over a decade. Her deep affection for the archipelago — its raw landscapes, untamed energy, and unchanged rhythms — runs through every trip she designs. Here, she shares what makes this remote corner of the Mediterranean feel so singular, and why it keeps calling her back year after year.

There’s something really magic, almost mystical, about the light in the Aeolian Islands that I’ve never experienced anywhere else in the world. At golden hour, the way it reflects off the rocks — it literally strikes you. The first time I sailed in, I felt completely taken aback by the islands’ rough and unconventional beauty. You don’t expect that kind of landscape in the middle of the Mediterranean. And that feeling of freedom and disconnection you get the moment you arrive by sailboat? I feel it every single time I return.

A perfect day in the Aeolian Islands 

A perfect day starts at anchor, waking up near one of the islands. I like heading ashore for a traditional Sicilian breakfast — lemon granita and brioche — and watching the locals start their day by the pier. Then we set sail for a hidden bay like Basiluzzo, somewhere only accessible by boat. The morning is all about the sea: swimming, snorkelling in crystal-clear water, exploring caves by paddleboard or underwater scooter, or just floating and relaxing.
The sea is always warm — it’s volcanic here — and it’s really the main character of the day. Lunch onboard is usually a traditional Sicilian feast: crudo made from tuna we caught that morning, local red shrimp carpaccio, pasta alla norma, homemade cannolo. All paired with Sicilian wines, of course. In the afternoon, we sail slowly towards another island — maybe Stromboli — and arrive just as the heat begins to soften. It’s the perfect time for a walk through the village before heading back on board for sunset cocktails. Then comes the real show: watching Stromboli’s eruptions from just 200 metres offshore, every ten or fifteen minutes, while our chef prepares Neapolitan pizzas on deck. If we’re still up for more, we sail to Panarea for one last drink under the stars — or to dance into the night.

What makes these islands so special

Each island has its own identity. Vulcano is the first you reach, with its crater and sulphur springs — and the best sunsets. Stromboli is something else entirely. We call it Iddu — “him” in Sicilian — and it feels like he’s part of the family. Panarea is where I kissed my husband for the first time. It’s all barefoot parties and old-school glamour. Salina is the foodie island — world-class vineyards, amazing granita, the best trattorie. Filicudi feels like time has stopped. Lipari is full of history and stunning cliffs. Alicudi is so remote you’ll find no cars — only donkeys.
There are places I always return to: the black sand of Asino Beach on Vulcano, “la Sciarra del Fuoco” on Stromboli, granita at Papero in Salina (it’s worth the 40-minute dinghy ride), cocktails at Raya in Panarea, and a sunset glass of Malvasia at Castellaro in Lipari.

Why I keep coming back

This isn’t a destination that’s changed much over the years — and that’s part of the charm. It’s hard to reach, hard to commercialise, and still beautifully authentic. Our guests often don’t know what to expect. They arrive from crowded, chaotic places like Taormina, and within minutes of stepping on board, they’re somewhere else entirely — disconnected in the best way. And although we work across Italy, it’s here that I’ve made the most lasting friendships. The people are passionate, generous, and deeply proud of their islands. And they make every return feel like coming home.