Glorious Greece September 2023

Chapter One: THERE AND BACK

We’d sailed to Kouloura Bay on Lipsoi at the beginning of September to sit out some wind. When it had calmed down to about 25 knots we launched Buddy and took our rubbish ashore. The bins were conveniently placed on the road to Lipsoi Town which was where we headed to. We passed Dimitris Farm, a watering station for animals, and an aviary full of budgies, and then tackled the incline to the crest of the peninsula before we could see down to Lipsoi Harbour.

We walked along the quay, saw the visitor pontoon and the ferry port, then took the steps up to the supermarket. Peter had read about a winery on this island and we bought a bottle of white, rosé and red, but forewent the sweet red.

Whether it was the effect of the local grapes or the changing weather conditions we couldn’t tell, but our anchorage became more and more swelly during our stay. With the forecast predicting rain and wind from the South we agreed on moving to a more sheltered area. We upped anchor, unfurled the genoa and, despite of a lumpy sea, had a pleasant downwind sail to Leros. The anchorage at Bléfouti provided a welcome surprise – it was well protected, and even in this North-Westerly Force 5 the swell was minimal. We dropped the hook in 5m in a sandy patch, had a swim and settled in.

Ingrid slept on deck, ready to spring into action should the forecast rain arrive. We did see some lightning in the very far distance, but Cordelia never got wet. It actually cleared out rather than closed in, so Peter rowed us ashore and secured Buddy to a tree on the beach. We walked along the road which turned into a track, passed a little bay, and led up to a building which we reckoned must once have been an Italian barrack. Someone was inside cleaning up the sheep’s mess, so we did not enter to verify our theory, but there was Italian writing on the wall. We carried on up the hill to what was marked as a “viewpoint” and did indeed provide a decent vista. A bit further up we came across the remnants of a pillbox and a gun emplacement. On the way back we continued along to the café and taverna, but as they were playing noisy music we had our coffee back on Cordelia.

We went out for another walk in the morning, this time up the road from the taverna, over the hill, and down the other side. There we found a couple of houses and barracks, and further on along the road a large boatyard. We intended to haul out in spring, so had a look in from outside the fence, and it seemed okay to us. Next door was an airfield with one runway and flights to Athens, Kalymnos and Astipalaia. We sat on a bench outside and watched a handful (literally 5!) of people turn up for their flight before we headed back.

A cup of coffee, a rest and lunch followed onboard, then we prepared Buddy, Cordelia and ourselves for departure at 12.40pm. We had heard the anchor chain rubbing against some rocks and feared it might have got trapped, but we got away without a hitch. We were still inside the bay when we hoisted the mainsail which got some assistance from the genoa once outside. The wind was a steady North-Easterly Force 4, and Cordelia was going along nicely at around 3.5 knots.

We dropped the anchor back at Kouloura Bay at 2.25pm, dived on it, cleared up, and enjoyed a cup of tea. The wind was very light by then, and fortunately so was the swell. Cordelia was sideways on to it (a position she seems to favour), and rocked gently to and fro. The next morning Peter rowed us to a cove behind some rocks, we walked along the road past Dimitris Farm and turned right. There was a vineyard along the road which had already been harvested but Ingrid spotted a few grapes that had been missed, so we tried them. They were sweet and delicious, no wonder the local wine was very tasty.

We carried on up to a chapel which Ingrid entered (no big revelations), then took a right turn up to another chapel which was locked. After a little detour to a viewpoint we continued along the road. We had lovely views over the “windy” side before coming back to look down on Lipsoi Town.

A little bit further out, the road started to descend and eventually joined a coastal road. We turned left onto it and soon arrived at the harbour. It was busy as it was a trip boat day, and there were plenty of punters about. We visited the Calypso supermarket, and amongst other groceries bought liquefied grapes. At the checkout the shopkeeper was so happy with us that he gifted us a bottle of white wine.

We knew that Lipsoi Town housed a port police office, so we took our papers there on our next outing. A very nice man asked us where we’d been since we’d checked in over a month ago. Then he put Pythagorio as last port into our transit log and Leros as our next. Copies were taken of our documents, then we were sent on our way. This happened to be the bakery for bread and buns and they added a large sesame stick to our purchase for free. Next was the little supermarket up the steps where we stocked up with wine, pizza, crisps and suchlike. At the checkout the lady presented us with a box of biscuits – which was nice!

It got windy in the night and was still gusting 30 knots in the morning. We consulted Windy which predicted gusts of 15 knots, so was utterly useless. It got the wind direction right though, which was from the North, so we decided to go with it and headed South.

Chapter Two: KERFUFFLE AT THE ANCHORAGE

At 9.50am we upped anchor and pointed Cordelia towards the island of Arkhangelos near Leros. With the wind behind us we set the genoa with 1½ reefs. We saw speeds of up to 5.3 knots in a confused sea with steep waves from astern with a good 1m in height.

Cordelia swung port to starboard and back, but took it all in her stride and delivered us safely to our anchorage. There we tested different places before we settled for one to drop our anchor. Ingrid dived on it and it had set nicely in about 5.5m in sand. It was relatively calm and the swell was hardly noticeable, so all in all a peaceful location.

We kept an eye on our neighbours, them and Cordelia turning with the gusts, though not always in the same direction or at the same time. One of them had anchored very close to us, claiming their steerage was broken. Having seen them racing in we had difficulties believing it, but, to their credit, they did take both of their wheels off. They went to the taverna for dinner, and it was dark when they came back. Then, all of a sudden, they weighed anchor and were off. Where they were going to at 10.00pm with the wind increasing we couldn’t fathom, suffice to say we didn’t call them back.

It was midnight, and Peter had heard a woman shouting, so he came on deck where Ingrid was sleeping, to assess the situation. He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but checked the anchor chain and snubber. Our German neighbour must have heard the commotion, too, as he shone his search light all over the bay. With nothing to report we all went back to bed.

At 1.00am the neighbour was on the foredeck again with his beam and lengthened his chain. At 2.00am the wind was gusting around 30 knots, and it was too noisy for Ingrid to sleep in the cockpit, so she adjourned to the saloon. At 2.30am Peter was back on top investigating some clanging from the chain. Ingrid awoke at 6.30am when Peter once again went on deck to move the snubber to midships. At 7.30am we got up for breakfast.

It was blowing a hoolie outside with a surprisingly big swell. We moved into the cockpit while this was still going on, and held on to our second cup of coffee. We folded up the bimini, our neighbour upped anchor and re-anchored closer to shore. Boats left and even our ex-neighbour had enough and joined them. Around lunchtime an Italian flagged boat arrived and struggled for a place that would suit. He thought that was near our Cordelia, and we shooed him off as he was so close he put out his fenders in anticipation of a coming together. Likewise did another yachtie when they got too near to his vessel for their liking. Next a catamaran and two sailboats came racing in, fighting for position. They circled around for a bit, we even pointed out where the sand was to one of the sailboats, and finally they all settled. Not long after their trials the wind and swell subsided, only to come back again in the night.

We got up to see the “Early Birds” pack up and leave. They were soon replaced by a fleet of charter boats, though most of them left after lunch. The sea outside our bay still looked rough, and inside we still suffered those vicious gusts that came out of the blue. One of the charter boats near us got hit by one and in turn nearly hit Cordelia. They quickly started their engine, upped anchor and roared away. We entertained ourselves by watching the various attempts of anchoring, even saw two boats go stern-to. If the coming night was anything like the previous two, they’d be having an uncomfortable shift. We had pointed out a free buoy to one of them which they didn’t take. Well, each to their own, though when we checked the next morning one of them had belatedly taken our advice and the buoy.

We also encountered another boat whose crew was hell-bend on ridding the bay of posidonia as they ploughed through it. They anchored, re-anchored, repeated the action, were still not satisfied, and started all over again. By 5.00pm they had anchored twice in the little bay further down and seven times in ours, and still they kept going. In the end they went back over to the little bay and settled for the night. With the show being over and us not wanting to see any repeats of it we prepared to leave the next day.

Chapter Three: TAKING CARE OF HEALTH AND BUSINESS

We left the anchorage at 9.00am and set the reefed genoa once we were out of the strait. We still had interference from the landmass of Leros, but after we’d passed the spectacular cliffs and sailed further out to sea the wind was cleaner and from astern.

We shook out the reef and had a pleasant downwind sail in a North-Westerly Force 5. Ingrid called Leros Marina for a berth as we needed a reset, but they were full. We resolved to anchor outside and see if we could just go in to refill our water tanks. We motored into Portolago Bay and dropped the hook at 11.00am. The marina had informed us we could come in after 4.00pm for the water, and we used the time in-between to go ashore and check out the local facilities, i.e. supermarkets, drinking water dispensers, gas bottle exchange etc. When we came back the wind had picked up so we re-booked the refill for the next morning. The hose was near the travel lift and we moored up alongside. We filled up both tanks, waited for a big ferry to disembark from the ferry port and turn around, and found ourselves a spot closer to shore but further from the ferry’s turning circle to anchor. Then we made our way to the health centre.

Peter had been suffering from a swollen elbow for four weeks and wanted it seen to. The security man pointed us to A&E and told us to wear a mask once inside. We entered the building when a nurse came out (we may have jumped the queue without knowing), and Peter was taken into a room where he was examined. Not his elbow, but his blood pressure (so high they wouldn’t even tell him the numbers) and his lungs. He was given IV to lower his blood pressure, an ECG for his heart, and had an X-ray on his lungs. He was prescribed an inhaler and his arm was put in a sling. When a nurse found out that his elbow hadn’t received the necessary attention she advised Peter to go to Outpatients. We had problems finding it, but another nurse pointed us in the right direction and to the right office. Fortunately the nurse who’d sent Peter there walked past and explained Peter’s predicament. He was given an appointment for the next day at 11.30am and was told he needed a negative PCR test, attainable from the pharmacy.

At around 9.00am the next day we started our preparations for Peter’s appointment. One of the pharmacies was open, we got the inhaler, vitamin pills and a rapid PCR test. The staff were friendly and the place was well stocked (at a price), so we were sorted for any medicines we might need. We got to the health centre in good time, Peter went in, and Ingrid waited on a bench in the shade outside. An hour and a half later Peter re-appeared with a big bandage on his elbow. Turned out that the doctor he had the appointment with took one look and promptly declared he was not the man for the job and Peter would have to see an orthopaedic doctor. As Peter had no appointment with one of those he had to join the queue, and with this doctor running an hour late there was the explanation for the long wait. Eventually he was called into a room, the doctor summoned an assistant to do the dirty work, they inserted a syringe into Peter’s elbow, blood and other liquids were ejected, and more of the same spurted out when they squeezed the area. The elbow was then injected with cortisone and bandaged up, and Peter was advised not to remove it for three days.

With the elbow taken care of, for which by the way we did not have to pay for, we had a walk around town, found the greengrocer, bakery, more supermarkets, chandleries, the harbour and another (small) marina. We had booked a berth for the winter at Leros Marina and were glad to find such a good variety of facilities.

Chapter Four: RAMBLES OF LEROS

We were ashore at 9.00am with our little rucksacks and trainers, and on the road to the marina. We didn’t go in though, but carried on up and down on the main road till we saw a sign on the left with “Paleokastro” written on it. Of course it was uphill, but it wasn’t too far, and we soon stood in the grounds of an ancient site with a little chapel on the top. It was a good viewpoint, so we sat down on a bench with a bun and had a good look around.

We found a concreted path that descended into Xirokampos. We passed the water dispenser near the sports stadium, made it to the beach, and looked at the boats in the bay. The road out of this sleepy village led past a supermarket, so we treated ourselves to an ice-cream before we headed back. We were back at the turn-off in no time at all, passed the ex mental hospital compound, then the marina land entrance, and in another 20 minutes were at the Kritikos supermarket. We bought pizzas and a cold drink, and walked back to Buddy via the Liquor Store.

After a bit of a rest on Cordelia we loaded Ingrid’s rucksack with an empty gas bottle for an exchange at the nearest supermarket. Unfortunately they’d run out of full ones but advised us to try at the BP petrol station. As by then we’d already made other purchases we off-loaded them on Cordelia first, then returned to shore in search of gas. The petrol station was a little further out of town but did fulfil our requirement. €15.00 poorer but 3.5kg of gas richer we marched back to Buddy. On Cordelia we stowed everything in the rightful places, then moved the snubber to midships, rehydrated and had a well deserved rest. Ingrid even cooled off in the sea. The pizzas came in handy and so did the bottles of wine from the liquor store, as one of each made it to our dinner table.

The wind was up to its usual tricks again and kept us boat-bound for a few days. When it finally abated we were keen to stretch our legs. Peter had found a quiet backstreet tour that took us out of Lakki. We gained about 40m of height but dropped most of it on our descent into Vromolithos where we saw plenty of boats anchored or moored on buoys in the bay. We made it up to Panteli and its narrow roads until we reached the steps that took us up higher and to a church. From there we followed a track and more steps up to Pantelio Castle (of Byzantine origin).

This was perched on the top of the hill at around 150m height, and apart from being an impressive ruin the site afforded spectacular views in all directions. We looked down into Platanos, over to the windmill in the water at Agia Marina, into the bay at Alinda, and all the way back to Lakki where we could spot Cordelia in the anchorage.

We carried on along the road and around a hairpin bend, and sat down on a bench further along. We refreshed with drink and buns, and overlooked the comings and goings in and out of Ormos Alintas. We made it to the six windmills on the ridge, but they were all closed, even the one converted into a café/taverna.

There was a sign pointing to a dirt track with something 0.3km away. We went to investigate and found this “something” to be remnants of Italian barracks, gun stations, tunnels and a camouflaged pillbox with an iron ladder leading down into a dark hole. As we had no torch we didn’t pursue it.

Instead we turned back to the windmills and from there made it through the roads of Panteli, then headed for home where we arrived after 7 miles, 350m up and down and 3 hours later.

We did some thorough provisioning before we got the anchor out of the mud and set the genoa for Xirokampos on the Southern side of Leros. It started off with a slow downwind sail, then a gybe with swell from astern, and, after another turn, with hardly any wind but what there was was on the nose. Of course it blew up again when we approached the anchorage. The first spot was no good and we dragged, but on the second attempt we found sand and the anchor dug in. We were in 11m but Ingrid could see all the way down when she checked on it.

We went ashore the next morning and found our way behind the sports stadium and past half a dozen ferociously barking knee-high dogs to the start of the walk. The road soon turned into a dirt track with unattended drives leading off to grand buildings such as sheds, ram-shackled shelters and fallen down edifices of dubious origin, all occupied by both beast and man, but not necessarily at the same time. Our track had a very pleasant gradient with five hairpins to the top. The distance between the bends was ginormous, so despite gaining height we didn’t seem to get any closer to our goal. Finally, after a good hour and a half we reached the viewpoint near the Church of Ascension of Jesus.

This turned out to be a converted gun emplacement from WW2. We went in for a closer look. It featured some nice wall paintings plus the usual icons, and had a big cross outside which was illuminated by night. In fact, we’d had a very good view of it from our anchorage at Lakki. There was also a path around the back with a sheer drop down to the sea.

A little further along the road were the remnants of an Italian barrack, so we went inside to investigate. We could identify a few floor tiles under the goat dumplings, but not much else. When we came back out into the open Ingrid felt a sting on her ankle, and when she looked down she discovered she was being attacked by little flies. They were tiny, and she was brushing them off her calves, socks and shoes when she noticed they were more jumping away rather than flying. They were not flies at all – these were fleas! A warning was immediately conveyed to Peter whose socks were also smothered with them. We spent the next twenty minutes brushing, picking and shooing them off our footwear and ankles. It was a close escape but escape we did!

We carried on downhill and then more steeply uphill to the mast on top of Mount Skoumbados (ca. 330m). Around it were more broken barracks, gun stations, tunnel entrances and observation bunkers. We checked on most of them and even followed one tunnel all the way in and out again.

There were also signs of shelling in form of craters, and we couldn’t help but feel sorry for those poor soldiers who were sitting ducks to the German bombardment. We retraced our steps with nothing out of the ordinary on the way down, other than we took a detour round the village to avoid the dogs. We arrived back on Cordelia hot, worn out and thirsty, so had a jolly good rest in the afternoon.

By the next day we were fully recovered and back onshore. We turned right this time along the beach and followed the road out of the village. Soon after the first incline we saw a sign to a little chapel we could see from our anchorage. It was down at sea level, so we had to lose height. It was worth it though, as it was quite pretty inside with half of its interior chiselled out of the rock.

After this detour we continued along the road which soon turned into a dirt track. We were gradually gaining height and passed a couple of farms with the obligatory sheep and goats and even a lorry which stopped for us on its way down. We had a rest at a viewpoint and looked down to Cordelia and her surroundings.

It was not too long after that when we reached our destination – Terra Amata, the remnants of Italian barracks. We went inside and found drawings on the walls of a soldier’s caricatured life, as well as a huge replica of Brueghel’s dinner scene.

From there a footpath led across the mountainside. At times this was difficult to follow, but eventually we made it back down via the chapel on the Paleokastro hill where we’d walked to from Lakki. It didn’t take us long to descend into Xirokampos and motor back to Cordelia.

A fire had started somewhere on land and Ingrid could smell it during the night. By morning we were ensconced in smoke, and our eyes started to sting, our mouths were dry and breathing became unpleasant. As this seemed to get worse by the minute we decided to head for better air. By 8.30am we’d stowed away everything and upped anchor. The wind was light but on the nose, so we motored round the island to Bléfouti and looked after Cordelia.

Ingrid cleaned off the forest-like growth from Cordelia’s hull and Peter attended to the solar panels. He had noticed on the previous day that the starboard panel was not functioning, but he had managed to rectify the situation. Now the port panel had stopped charging, so this demanded a proper investigation. Out came all the windsurfing gear from the aft cabin, and in went Peter. He traced the fault to a dodgy fuse connection, so he made sure it was plugged in hard all the way – another maintenance job for the winter? We celebrated our escape from the fire and smoke inhalation, the mending of the solar, the cleaning of the hull and the successful sail and anchoring with pizza and wine, and intended to move on just as soon as the predicted Westerly wind would arrive.

In the meantime Peter got his new rod ready, put meat on the hook and went fishing off the back. Two fish turned up but showed no interest, so Peter switched to bread and threw the meat into the water. The new bait caused interest by the fish population, but not a bite. Peter just reminded Ingrid that he’d never caught anything with bread when the feeding frenzy began. The fish were all going for the meat, but one of them was a vegetarian and took the bread. Peter, in turn, took the fish – duck broken! It was too small to keep, so back it went into the sea where it promptly went belly up and expired. This is what vegetarianism can do to you – it makes you too weak to cope with any changes in the environment! As we are omnivores and thus not affected by such shortcomings we prepared to weigh anchor and change scenery.