Chapter One: HEADING NORTH AGAIN
We had circumnavigated the island of Leros and had originally intended to head South to Kalymnos and possibly Kos. However, with the predominant wind coming from the North we were concerned about heading into strong wind or even being unable to return to our winter quarters in Leros when the time came. Instead, we decided to play “Musical Chairs”, hopping from island to island, heading North when the conditions allowed in order to stay upwind. So on the next suitable opportunity we left Bléfouti and motored for 2½ hours to Arkoi where we dropped the anchor at Makronisi South in crystal clear turquoise water.
It was a beautiful and remote place, and we were the only ones there for the whole morning. After lunch Peter prepared his fishing rod, and the fish were queuing up to swallow the bread bait. Two of the fish he caught were of edible size but Peter released them so they could grow a bit more. It was around that time when more boats arrived and of course there was always one attracted to Cordelia, trying to snuggle up to her. No more skinny-dipping for the day, then!
Arkoi is a small island and it didn’t take us long to explore it. We followed a footpath over rubble and shrubs which turned into a dirt track and led past inlets with lovely looking anchorages.
At the harbour we took the concreted “high street” up the hill where we found a blue and white chapel (closed) and remnants of farmhouses.
We descended an old path to complete the round tour to the harbour, and from there went back to where we’d come from. Arkoi seemed a barren place with a few goats, 40-odd inhabitants and a quaint harbour with two tavernas. It was a sleepy island with not much going for it other than a bit of fishing, goat-herding and tourism.
When the wind was blowing a nice South-Easterly Force 4 we weighed anchor, carefully negotiated our way around the shallows, and set full sail once out at sea. It didn’t take long before the wind blew up and we were racing along at over 7 knots. Time for a reef, we thought. We were sailing along splendidly, then the wind decreased and we shook out the reefs. We’d had a good 1½ hours lovely sailing in total before the wind completely changed direction (yes, on the nose!) but also only produced 10 knots true. We motorsailed for a while, first with both sails, then without the genoa, until we reached the vicinity of the island between Samos and Turkey. The rest of the way to Klima Bay was under engine alone, and we dropped the anchor near the taverna in 8m. We hoped it was in sand, but when Ingrid swam out to check it she couldn’t see further than the chain hitting the sandy bottom. Klima Bay was another picturesque place, but the water there was murky!
Chapter Two: WHERE HAVE ALL THE TOURISTS GONE?
Klima Bay had never been busy but now the traffic on the water around it had also decreased. We took this as a sign that we may find a space at Posidonio which had been very busy when we had visited it on foot in August. So we motored around the corner and 15 minutes later the anchor was down. A man in a pedalo was fishing with a handline in circles around Cordelia and prevented Ingrid from checking on the anchor. He was still there after we’d had our lunch, but eventually he gave up, and as he returned to shore she jumped into the water. We were in 5m and it was easy to spot the ground tackle. The hook was not in very deep, so Peter reversed some more to set it properly and with 2,000 revs dragged it back another 5 meters. When the dust had settled, it all looked worse than before, so we re-anchored closer in and buried the anchor in the sand.
The night had been cool but bright with a full moon illuminating the bay. A cockerel was confused and started crowing, only to be drowned out by the howling of the local dogs. Ingrid slept well on deck until 6.30am when the fisherman started work – and their boat engines. For the next ½ hour it was like Piccadilly Circus around Cordelia! After breakfast Peter rowed us ashore where we walked to the shop. The bread had yet to be delivered, and we were asked to come back for it in an hour. We spent the meantime back onboard with a cup of coffee. When we returned to the shop, there was a lovely smelling and still warm loaf with our name on it (not literally!). Before Ingrid rowed us back to Cordelia we walked up the steps to St Nicholas Church and continued on the path behind it. This took us on a little round tour back to the village. Back on board we had some of the bread for lunch and it was very tasty.
We were listening to an audiobook when Peter noticed that we were rather close to the mooring buoy nearest to the shore. The wind had shifted to North-West and was blowing us onshore. We had 2.9m under the waterline and saw gusts of 28 knots. We agreed we’d be better off somewhere (in fact, anywhere) else, so upped anchor and motored out into the wind and waves. Our original spot further down at Klima Bay was vacant, so we occupied it with no-one else anywhere near us. Ingrid then dived on the anchor which had set nicely in 5m in the sand and we celebrated our escape from going aground by opening the Hera ouzo bottle we’d bought that morning.
The wind kept on gusting all night, turning Cordelia in any direction it pleased. Mostly it was sideways or stern-to into the swell which was at times quite uncomfortable. Fed up with being shoved from one side to the other we moved Cordelia closer to the taverna shore where the sea state was far more tolerable. We spent a few windy days on our own at Klima Bay with swimming, reading, resting, sunbathing, photo editing, sorting out the solar when one or the other panel stopped charging, listening to music and audiobooks, doing admin, watching YouTube videos, drinking more ouzo and living the life of Riley.
When we fancied a change we motored the 2.8NM to Psili Ammos and once again anchored in the strait between the village and the islet. Psili Ammos had a lovely sandy beach (probably the best on the island), a handful of tavernas and a mini-market.
Before we raided the latter for crisps, Fanta and wine we hiked up the road to a(nother closed but) picturesque chapel and the Asia Minor Monument.
We were awarded with views down to Cordelia, across to Turkey and over Mikhali Bay.
Back down in the village we checked out some tavernas and planned on having dinner in one of them. We started preparations for our outing just after 6.00pm, had a little walk along the beach and settled for “Anatoli”. We were the only ones there and placed our order for our meal. While we were eating, the cook (and owner) was practising on the bouzouki. The music was traditional Greek, the ambience was comfortable, the food was delicious, and it was dark when we’d finished. We’d come prepared and brought along torches and could also see Cordelia’s mooring light, the wind had finally abated, and we made it back onboard without an incident.
Chapter Three: WIND AND SWELL
Cordelia had twizzled around during the night and occasionally we could feel the swell. In the morning Ingrid set up fenders and lines and Peter motored over to Samos Marina. The wind (Easterly Force 4) was blowing us onto the fuel pontoon which made for easy docking, but the swell was disconcerting. Peter phoned the man for service and while we waited for him to arrive Ingrid checked us into the marina for two nights. Once we’d filled up with diesel and gas Peter sprung us off against the wind with some considerable vigour, then the marinero helped us into our berth. We explored the marina (quiet, shop permanently closed, sailmaker and chandlery deserted, abundance of empty buildings), then walked the 20 minutes on the flat along the coast into Pythagorio. This time we even made it up to the castle which was closed during that week (knowing my luck…).
Next we went to the Dimas supermarket and filled our rucksacks. The marina had a laundry service on site and Vangelis charged €15.00 for a big load of same day wash and dry. Cordelia also got pampered: she had a shampoo wash and a good rinse and was massaged dry by Ingrid. We stocked up on solids and liquids and with the clock now all reset we were ready to move on.
We left Samos Marina in a North-Westerly Force 5 which filled the genoa for a nice downwind sail. A couple of hours later we were anchored in Tsópela Bay.
The wind turned in the afternoon and, once again, Cordelia was side-on to the swell. She kept rolling all night and we were glad when it got light and we could head for the shore. There, behind the trees, we found an abandoned village and a very wide dirt track. Further up we had great views down to the anchorage where Cordelia was still bouncing along happily.
We had to cross a spectacular ravine, then found the turn-off that led to a – wait for it – chapel (no surprise there!), and then down to the beach.
Unfortunately the ravine separated it from the beach where we’d left Buddy, so it fell to Peter to wade and swim around its perimeters to retrieve him. He then collected Ingrid and rowed us back to Cordelia. Despite there being hardly any wind she was still rolling around, and we certainly didn’t want to spend another night there.
We packed up, and at 11.00am we motored away. We were met with an Easterly Force 3 (where did THAT come from?) and set both sails. After about ½ hour the wind dropped, but we could still motorsail under both sails, though we furled away the genoa when it started flapping. We had lunch, then Peter saw a wind line with white horses. Not wanting to be caught out we dropped the mainsail and motored.
We didn’t have to wait long before the wind reached us. It now blew from the forecast North-West in Force 5, so we stopped the engine and put out the genoa. We were doing fine until the bigger waves arrived. They hit the starboard solar panel first, then built up a bit more. On one occasion we surfed down one wave and nearly broached – the port scuppers and solar panel bottom were in the drink, but Cordelia and George, the autopilot, soon got us back into a more upright position. We quickly put in a reef and a half. The waves were still high enough to peek over Cordelia’s pushpit and the ride was still exhilarating albeit a bit slower now.
It was 2.45pm before we reached the shelter of Arkoi and not long after when we turned the corner and motored into the anchorage at Makronisi South. There was another boat already anchored there, but they left us after we’d dropped the hook and we were alone for dinner. We were well protected in this anchorage even when the wind built up to 40 knots.
When it eased off we prepared the windsurfing kit, and once the wind had filled in Ingrid had some nice runs across the bay. She managed to find the only windless spot to turn on her last run home, so it took her a while to get going again. Peter couldn’t see her as she was behind the island, so he got Buddy ready to search for her. Then the outboard stopped and he had to row to stop himself from drifting out to sea. We both met up behind Cordelia, both on our way back to safety. Turned out, Peter had somehow turned off the fuel supply and that’s why the outboard went on strike. We stored everything away on deck after Peter had a test ride on Buddy with the engine (and he promptly fouled the propeller on the line we’d tied the windsurfing gear to). We managed to clear it all up, then looked into sailing to Agathonisi.
According to the forecast we would have to leave around lunchtime for the 3 hour journey. The anchorages there were small, and if all the spaces were taken there would not be enough daylight left to sail to one of the other islands. In addition, the wind was predicted to change direction making it difficult to turn back. Having successfully talked ourselves out of this idea we decided to sail to Patmos instead.
Chapter Four: MR & MRS OUT-OF-SEASON
We were away at around 9.30am and set both sails soon after. Cordelia drifted across past the islands until we lost the Northerly Force 2-3 in the wind shadow of the last one. We motored around it until we hit the wind line, then turned off the engine. We started to move along gently enough but while Ingrid was making coffee below Cordelia gathered speed and began heeling. She was doing 6.5 knots and cut through the swell like a knife.
We had a fantastic sail to Patmos! When we had to alter course to get into Livadi Geranou we were too close to the wind for sailing, so we motored the last 15 minutes. We were the first ones in the bay at about 11.30am and could pick our spot. It was more or less in the same position where we’d been in before, in 4.8m and sand and in wonderful clear water.
The next morning Peter rowed us ashore where we got rid of our rubbish. From the taverna we carried on walking on the familiar way to Kampos, and from there along the main road to Skala. 5 miles and 2 hours later we arrived at the harbour. All the boats were moored up alongside and not stern-to. There was even a space left. Must be the end of the season!
We strolled past still some rather busy tavernas and cafés to the supermarkets to top up our provisions that would see us through till the end of our cruising season. With bags, rucksacks and both hands full we trudged to the taxi station. For €15.00 (€20.00 with tip, the driver was VERY pleased) the nice man helped us with our purchases and took us to our bay. Cordelia was the only boat and looked magnificent. She was, of course, dutifully admired by the taxi driver and his young protégé (a boy of about 10 years who occupied the passenger seat).
After we’d offloaded our acquisitions we rehydrated and cooled off in the turquoise water. The sea temperature was a bit cooler now, but still very pleasant, and the sun warmed us quickly enough in the cockpit with the bimini folded back. We spent some wonderful days in Livadi Geranou and even managed to get in another hike.
We walked along the coastline to the next bay (with the tree on the beach). From there we turned inland and followed the concreted path up to Panagia Geranou chapel. It was locked but a sign said that they hold a festival in their yard once a year. It didn’t say when that was, but we could see tables, benches and BBQ equipment stowed away in a corner.
We continued along the road with views of goats and down the Eastern side of the island to the sea. Further on, the road arched in a wide semicircle around our bay, with empty and some derelict farm buildings and a rocky field full of more goats between it and the sea. It took us back to the turn-off to the taverna and home.
We sat out a Southerly wind which also brought the first rain shower in months and cleared out soon enough. When the wind direction changed in our favour we waved good-bye to Patmos and we were off. With the sun out and the sea having calmed down we had a very pleasant sail to Papantria Cove on Lipsoi. This was another beautiful anchorage with very clear water and therefore popular during the summer. As it were, there was only one other boat there when we arrived and they left in the afternoon.
In the morning we walked into Lipsoi Town to see the port authorities. They were reluctant to stamp our transit log as it stated “Leros” as our next port of call. We explained that’s where we’re going but we stopped in Lipsoi because of the weather. In the end they checked us in and out, and we were free to go. We got some goodies at the supermarket and bread and buns from the bakery, then went on our merry way back to Cordelia. After coffee and buns, a swim, lunch and getting shipshape we upped anchor just after 1.00pm. We had a leisurely sail on the genoa in fair winds and following seas, it was a very laid-back and blissful ride. We sailed into our anchorage at Bléfouti, and only furled away the genoa when we were ready to drop the hook.
Chapter Five: LAST HOORAYS
For a while we were the only yacht in the bay, but with the wind forecast to turn South we expected this to change. Sure enough, soon more sailboats arrived, all seeking protection in Bléfouti. Naturally, they all congregated around Cordelia, but as we only experienced the odd puff that caused her to loop above her anchor, we weren’t too concerned. We had originally contemplated cleaning the toilet hose, but with all the other boats around us and no sea movement to sweep away any detritus we changed our plan and opted for a rest day. We sat in the cockpit sunbathing, drank coffee and tea, ate buns, got hot, cooled off with a swim, and analysed the various anchoring techniques. These were observed as follows:
- Sailor One comes roaring into the anchorage, slaloms closely in-between other ships to the very front and squeezes himself right next to another boat when there is still ample space a little further out. He gets upset when this is pointed out to him and accuses his nearby neighbour of bad seamanship.
- Sailor Two anchors as far away as possible, then sees all the other boats huddled together, so leaves his chosen spot to join them. Inevitably, he drops his hook in weed and drags, tries and tries and tries again to re-anchor until he ends back up at the spot he left an hour earlier.
- Sailor Three has a spotter on the bow but completely ignores any instructions given. The hook goes down while he is still driving forward, so he chucks the engine into reverse, gives it plenty of wellie and promptly pulls his anchor along with him. While he ploughs the seabed he shouts abuse at his spotter.
- Sailor Four is quite the professional. Proficient in sign language he and his spotter communicate silently the depth, length of chain, condition of the seabed, water temperature, longitude and latitude, weather and wind conditions, the square root of the triangle between chain, bow and snubber, the meaning of life and everything. The anchor is perfectly secured in the perfect patch with the perfect amount of chain and will not budge in any number on the Beaufort scale.
- There are, of course, variations to these scenarios, sometimes even combinations, and they all cause great amusement to the spectators, for once you’ve anchored successfully yourself after multiple failed attempts you instantly progress into Sailor Four’s league and are entitled to provide your uninvited advice to any of the other categories.
One by one the boats left us when the conditions improved until there was only us. This was the perfect opportunity to attend to the toilet hose, so we got the tools ready. There was a lot of huffing and puffing, but eventually the hose came off, and Peter washed and poked it from the bathing platform. It wasn’t too gummed up, but enough crystals sunk into the sea to have made it worth our while. It was tricky to put it all back in its place, but with the help of string and our flexible cable rods together with more huffing and puffing this was finally accomplished. Peter finished the job with AguaFuerte treatment, then we cleaned up, Peter his tools and Ingrid the heads.
We weighed anchor the next morning. There was hardly any wind, so we had to motor out of the bay. We’d hoped to turn off the engine once outside, but the forecast wind never materialised and the sails, though prepared, could not be used. We passed through the strait between Leros and Arkhangelos when a small pod of large dolphins surrounded us. One of them played briefly with our bow wave but soon rejoined the others in search for food. They were our first dolphins in Greece that year, and it was a fitting conclusion to our sailing season.
After this lovely encounter we started work on the holding tank. We emptied and flushed it, then filled it from the outside with saltwater (9 buckets full). When we let go it came out clear, so we closed up and continued our journey. We dropped the hook outside Leros Marina and carried on with our work on the holding tank. Peter removed the cover and opened the lid, connected the water hose and gave it a thorough spray. We dared not open the valve into the sea at the anchorage, so decided to let it soak and get rid of it the next day.
After breakfast we got ourselves ready. As the holding tank was out of service Ingrid had to use the en-suite heads and promptly blocked it. Peter had the unenviable task of clearing the blockage. He knew it wasn’t the hose and managed to press the lever down and lock it. The pressure this created inside was strong enough to pop the culprit to the outside. Peter succeeded to pump a lot of water through, then took off the hose near the seacock and gave the latter the AguaFuerte treatment. This seemed to have done the trick as the heads was working again perfectly.
One toilet sorted it was time to continue on the other. At 9.45am we weighed anchor and motored towards the outside of the bay. When we had sufficient distance between us and the town we opened the seacock. It had been a good decision to have done this away from the anchorage. Peter then sprayed and rinsed the tank thoroughly again and again until we were satisfied with the amount that was still being deposited.
We turned to the marina entrance, called them up on VHF, and George, the marinero, came out and guided us to our winter berth. We had no wind to interfere with our berthing manoeuvre and Peter reversed in perfectly all the way. With lines attached and cable connected we put on the electric kettle for a cup of tea. Our cockpit faced South, so made the most of the sunshine, and we could also oversee the comings and goings in Portolago Bay. It was quiet, there was ample distance to our neighbours to spread out, so we adjusted our lines accordingly.
Cordelia was now securely attached and after a season of 1,056NM and a total of 174 nights (153 of which on anchor) in 50 different locations she was looking forward to her winter rest on Leros.