Chapter One: OFF TO PASTURES NEW
30 August: The night had been mild and we awoke to a beautiful sunrise and calm but slightly rolly sea in our anchorage at Capo Passero, Sicily. The weather window for our crossing to Greece seemed to finally have opened! After another check of the forecast we decided to leave in the evening. We made our usual preparations: clean the waterline and most of the hull, deflate and stow our tender Buddy, cook pasta and make sandwiches, and clear things away down below. We had one last swim in the warm water, ate our dinner and upped anchor at 7.00pm.
We sailed until Ingrid’s first watch at 09.00pm when we needed the help of the engine to keep going. There was hardly any moon, but the stars were out and together with Jupiter shone the way. A couple of ships in the distance and the lights over Siracusa accompanied the scenery, and the illuminations of the Capo Passero lighthouse followed us for 24NM (Nautical Miles). Peter took over at midnight and halfway through his watch he stopped the engine. When Ingrid took her second watch, however, it came back on, and we motorsailed into the sunrise.
After breakfast we got the gennaker out of its bag and by 8.45am it was all set. We added a preventer to the mainsail and averaged nearly 5 knots with this configuration.
The sea was a bit confused, we were rolling around in the swell, but the sun was shining and morale was good. At around 11.00am the wind changed to the West, so just before lunchtime we decided to convert the gennaker into a spinnaker. Five minutes later the change was complete – it had turned into an hourglass! It took us a considerable amount of time hoisting, dowsing and disentangling the poor thing before it could once again function as intended. Consequently our sandwich lunch was served rather late at around 2.00pm. By 3.00pm the wind had dropped to a force 2 (on the Beaufort scale) and we were crawling along at under 3 knots. We stopped and checked the rudder and prop for obstacles as we’d heard some odd noises when we ran the engine earlier. We couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary but it had been wonderful to jump into the 3,500 metre deep water and cool off.
On we went under engine power to catch up on lost ground. Earlier in the day we had seen a fishing boat and a yacht, and had encountered white official looking marker buoys (weather stations?), but apart from that we seemed to be the only thing around for miles. It was quite a surreal feeling! We both had a little snooze (separate) late afternoon, then ate our warmed up pasta and prepared for the night. Peter went below for his rest at 8.30pm and Ingrid started her first watch. There were other boats about but their lights were too far away to see with the naked eye, and Ingrid only learnt of their existence through AIS. So, once again, she had an uneventful shift with only the moon and the stars to keep her company. Peter had slept rather well in the meantime and came back up on deck at midnight. It didn’t take Ingrid long to fall asleep and Peter had to wake her up at 3.00am. He alerted her of two ships that were to cross our path within the next couple of hours. They did eventually pass, but were far enough behind us and did not interfere with our passage.
It was still a warm night, albeit a slightly damp one, so Ingrid cuddled up under her cosy blanket and stuck her legs out when she started to overheat. Peter, however, was sweating buckets whilst asleep in our cabin, so when we swapped positions at 6.00am he had a reasonably dry blanket and cockpit cushions whereas Ingrid crawled into a soaking bed with covers to match. She still slept well and wasn’t seen on deck again until 8.00am. Then we enjoyed a cup of tea with a jam croissant, aired the bedding and sheltered from the sun under our bimini whilst motoring along. We had made good speed during the night averaging over 6 knots, and were hoping to set sail which would certainly slow us down. If only the wind was playing its part! And it did! At 11.30am we set the gennaker in addition to the mainsail and could finally give the engine a rest. We did about 4.5 knots on average and had a very pleasant sail at a relaxing angle.
At 3.00pm the wind was all but used up, so on came the engine again. We made way for a tanker, then tried to sail again, but to no avail. We had to motor or not move at all. Just after 5.00pm we added the 20 litres of diesel from the jerry can into the tank which brought the gauge back up to an acceptable level. We ate our dinner, Peter went to bed at 8.30pm, and Ingrid was on watch and witnessed the same spectacle in the sky that repeated itself as per the previous two nights – never a sight to grow tired of! Two boats passed us within 5NM but were nothing to worry about or change course for. Ingrid also spotted lightning in the very far distance and lights of boats that weren’t on AIS. Apart from this it was another quiet night. Peter came up at 1.00am and returned the favour of this one hour lie-in by not waking up Ingrid for her second watch. She awoke at 5.45am when it got light. Peter reported a few fishing boats and when Ingrid looked around to find them she could see land. Not long after that we took down the mainsail and entered the large protected Navarino Bay. We found a place outside Pylos, an official port of entry on the Peloponnes into Greece, and dropped anchor just before 7.00am which was 8.00am Greek time. We’d made it! We had crossed the Ionian Sea and covered 326NM.
Chapter Two: BUREAU-CRAZY?
There was no time to recover from our passage. Peter prepared Buddy, we loaded up with some of the accumulated rubbish, our boat papers and passports, and went ashore at the abandoned marina (not that abandoned, it was stuffed with boats of all sizes).
Having gone through Italy, Spain and Portugal without the hassle of bureaucracy this was about to change. Before we left Sicily we had downloaded, filled in and printed off the TEPAI (cruising tax) form. This was supposed to be paid before arriving in Greece but their website couldn’t be trusted with processing an online payment. So instead we sought out the Pylos post office which opened at 8.00am, handed the form to a clerk who duly stamped, photocopied and filed it, then handed us back the original with the receipt of our payment neatly stapled to the top left hand corner. The TEPAI was calculated according to the length of the boat and as Cordelia was in the below 12 metre category we paid €66.00 for two months. Had she been a few centimetres longer and therefore over 12 metres we would have had to multiply her length by the given rate of €8.00 per metre and month which would have nearly tripled the price.
With the receipt and form we went in search of the port authorities to check in. We entered an impressive building with a big Greek standard hanging from a flagpole under a window. It turned out to be the town hall, but the friendly people there pointed us into the right direction. This happened to be the restaurant next door with a staircase inside that led steeply up to the second floor. We found the right office and informed them of our arrival. As we needed a transit log that they could administrate to make this official they sent us to the customs office which was located in a shed on the pier.
We presented our passports, boat papers, crew list and proof of paid TEPAI. There were more paper forms to be filled in, the data which we provided on them was transferred onto a computer, a lot of photocopying and stamping followed, we paid a fee of €30.00, got issued with a receipt and a transit log, and were sent back to the port authorities.
So up we climbed those stairs again, got – you guessed it – a stamp in the transit log and paid another €15.00 for which we got a receipt that needed to be taken to customs. Back at the shed the nice man there put more stamps on the log and receipt, took photocopies to file with our other paperwork, wished us a nice holiday, told us we were free to go, and sent us on our way. Thus the morning had passed.
On the way back to Cordelia we stopped at a supermarket and bakery and loaded up, enjoyed lunch onboard and finally caught up with some sleep. Ingrid woke up hot, so went into the water to cool off and check the anchor. We had cappuccino and cake, did our bit of admin and correspondence, had pizza and wine for dinner, drank a cup of tea on deck and adjourned for a snifter, YouTube videos and finally bed. We were back to our usual routine.
Chapter Three: FIRST IMPRESSIONS
The next day the wind picked up and changed direction, so we upped anchor and dropped it on the opposite side of the bay. We rigged our windsurfing gear, and we both had some good runs, blasting back and forth.
We also mopped up the bilges. We’d had some water ingress every time we ran the engine and it had gradually gotten worse. Peter searched the Internet, then the engine compartment, then the locker and narrowed it down to a leaky exhaust hose or/and a problem with the syphon break. We’d certainly have to keep an eye on it!
The next morning we motored ashore and walked along the beach and lagoon until we reached the uphill path to the Paleocastro (Old Castle).
The views along the way were once again fantastic but turned into truly breathtaking after we’d walked on the ramparts and arrived at the top.
We could see the sea with islands, our bay, Pylos, the lagoon and a lovely cove with a beach. The grounds of the castle were vast, and its size must have been quite impressive in its heyday.
We found and followed the path down to the other side of the isthmus. It resembled a Klettersteig as it was steep and had wires to hold onto and iron footholds. Then, all of a sudden, we were at Nestor’s Cave. This was a big opening with high ceilings.
The sun didn’t quite reach in all the way so we used the phone’s torch to explore. One could easily imagine 50 cows hidden in there, as according to legend Hermes had done with Apollo’s cattle.
We, however, continued down the path to the very picturesque Voidikilla Cove, then followed a track along the lagoon, over sand dunes and a bridge, and made it back onboard.
Not done with cultural enlightenment we got all “touristy” when we motored back to our original anchorage at Pylos and as such visited the Neocastro (New Castle).
We discovered the citadel, looked at exhibits from sunken settlements in the area, walked along the ramparts and admired the views over the bay, went into the church which had once been a mosque, and checked out the museum. The castle grounds had once been home to 600 homes, so was quite substantial, and it took us the whole morning to absorb it all.
We also checked out Pylos itself with its bars and restaurants around the town square, shops, supermarkets, bakeries, banks and – hurrah! – a chandlery where we bought a tape to wrap around the most leaky part of the exhaust hose. We stocked up on essentials and checked out at the port authorities. With our transit log fittingly stamped we were free to depart and head to our next anchorage.
Chapter Four: RIDING THE POLO PONIES
We weighed anchor at Pylos at 1.00pm and set the genoa as soon as we were out of the bay. Initially we were sailing along at a leisurely 3.5 knots but later the wind picked up speed and so did our Cordelia. We enjoyed a great downwind sail and revelled in the thought that we had no deadline or fixed destination. So when we spotted a lovely bay with flat water and no-one else about we pulled in and dropped the anchor. We spent a couple of days just relaxing, swimming and generally taking it easy before we moved on to Finikounda.
We motored ashore and found it to be a very charming village with all the commodities a tourist could wish for: a nice beach, good restaurants and bars, a quaint harbour, a pedestrianised high street and a variety of shops. It was a sleepy place and quiet during the night, so when Ingrid slept on deck the only interruption to her slumber was the occasional “tuck-tuck” of the fishing boats’ engines in the morning.
We carried on along the coast and passed the gap between the mainland and Nisis Venétiko before we dropped the hook outside Koroni. The wind had picked up to 30 knots but died down during the night, it was only the swell that knocked things around and kept us awake. So it was with relief when we got onshore to terra firma the next morning.
We walked up to the church, had a look inside and at the tombs of a visionary and martyrs, then continued up the road until we reached the castle with its bastions, ramparts, chapels/churches and a nunnery with gardens.
We admired the views down to our anchorage and over the other side to the harbour. Koroni was a pretty little town and had once been one of the major centres in the Peloponnes with 40,000 inhabitants. It was far less populated when we were there!
With the experience of the night before we agreed to leave after lunch and sailed, then motored to our next anchorage near Petalidi. There we caught up with some sleep and woke up to a beautiful morning. The wind picked up and we were hopeful for a windsurfing session, but it was gusty with periods of no wind, so we abandoned the idea and went swimming instead. We also measured the length of the exhaust hose. Peter had consulted the Internet and found out that we might be able to purchase a replacement in Kalamata. So that’s where we headed to the next day.
Kalamata had everything: a clean marina with a washing machine, helpful marineros who organised fuel and gas bottles, efficient port police who dealt with our documents, a chandlery which could supply an exhaust hose at short notice, a supermarket where we could get a Sunday roast (well, chicken and potatoes on a Wednesday, actually), an all purpose store for nick-nacks, a hypermarket and even a Lidl. We put all of these to good use, stocked up with goods, Peter replaced the exhaust hose which was quite an undertaking, replenished our tanks and after three nights checked out at the port authorities with the relevant stamps in our transit log to prove it.
We sailed back past the Neilson centre to our anchorage near Petalidi when Peter noticed a problem with George, the autopilot. The latter seemed to be confused as to where he was and where he was supposed to go. So Peter reverted to hand-steering, and once we were safely anchored he investigated. He recalibrated the rudder indicator which showed a discrepancy of -8º, and changed the default displacement setting from motorboat to sailing boat. Ingrid in the meantime cleaned the fenders, then went for a swim. She lingered near the bathing platform before she got back onboard when she suddenly felt a bite. At first she thought “jellyfish” but there weren’t any about. Then there was another nibble and that was when we noticed a squadron of little fish besieging her. They were vicious carnivores, intent on feasting on Ingrid’s flesh, and any movement she made brought them closer rather than scared them away. Well, that got her out of the water quickly! Peter, however, braved the beasts, but these mini-piranhas either did not fancy him or had retreated waiting for reinforcements before launching another attack, and he escaped unharmed from his swim. We later discovered they were using Buddy as a hidey-hole, and as soon as Ingrid went back into the water they ambushed her. Peter chivalrously jumped in and acted as a decoy which allowed Ingrid to reach the swimming ladder and climb back to safety. There could have been a far worse outcome had it not been for Peter, the hero, who risked his own life to save Ingrid’s! With this imminent danger in mind we left these perilous waters after four nights.
We weighed anchor at 6.40am with the wind coming from the (unforecasted) North, force 3. We set the genoa but carried on under engine whilst the weather turned. Clouds obscured the sun, and it looked rather ominous over the mountains. It was certainly raining there, and once it got light enough we could see the squalls. The dark sky caught up with us, but the clouds stayed dry and so did we. The wind changed to East, then North-East, then West and back to North-East varying from nothing to force 3-4. We were busy changing sides of the genoa with the shifts and furling and unfurling it as we saw fit in these conditions. We managed a good hour’s sail when we were rounding Cape Tainaron and the Gate of Hades, and with the sun shining once more we enjoyed our journey to Porto Kagio. We even had a turtle swimming past us and giving us a salute with its flipper.
We anchored at 4.10pm in around 10 metres of lovely clear water, and we could see all the way down to the hook being nicely dug in. Porto Kagio consisted of one bar and one restaurant, a guest house and half a dozen private houses. It was surrounded by more, mostly empty, buildings along the hillside, their architectural style resembling that of a medieval English castle. These were the fortified villages of the Maniots, a people said to have derived from the ancient Spartans. The hills reached all the way to the sea which meant an early sunset and bedtime for us. We were therefore awake at 7.00am the next morning, and as the wind was still from the North instead of East as forecast, we decided to head for the island of Elafónisos.
We weighed anchor at 8.30am, motored out of the bay, and set both mainsail and genoa. We were going along splendidly and even put a reef on both sails before the North wind bade its farewell. Then the East wind made its appearance. We were going slower now as this was right on the nose. At first we tried to get an angle to motorsail but after a while we realised this was futile, so we put the sails away and aimed straight for the anchorage. Then the wind increased to 27 knots, and we were making barely 4 knots. Every time we looked at the ETA (Estimated Time of Arrival) to our waypoint it set us back another 10 minutes and gave us the impression that we’d never get there. The waves had also been building up and were choppy and steep, and the going was just over 3 knots now, but we finally made it to the shelter of our anchorage and dropped the hook just after 2.00pm. We caught up with our lunch, swam in the fantastically clear water, cleared up and sat down for a rest. Only by then the wind had abated which meant that the wash from the passing cargo ships entered our bay unhindered. We endured the swell and held on to our dinner, though some of the cutlery and condiments were unable to hold onto the cockpit table and ended up on the floor. When it got dark the wind picked up again and changed to the usual Meltemi direction, i.e. North-East. It blew about 30 knots when we went to bed, and flattened the sea. No more swell! So despite the wind building up to 40 knots during the night we both slept well.
The Meltemi kept on coming and pinned us down for five days. We were well protected in our anchorage, and the anchor was deeply dug into the sandy bottom. We used the time to prepare for our onward journey but also ventured ashore.
One day we followed the path up to Simos Cave where allegedly the island had been given birth from.
Inside we found a fireplace, a three-legged table and two rickety folding chairs, the latter held together by various pieces of string. We took the chairs outside, sat in the sun and appreciated the view over our bay.
We also went out on our bikes and cycled to the village of Elafónisos with its ferry terminal, fishing boats, a lovely church, a turtle in the harbour, bars, restaurants, shops and supermarkets.
We loaded our rucksacks and pedalled back on the quiet road with great views of the countryside and the other side of our bay. Then, with the Meltemi gone, we stowed Buddy on the foredeck and got ready to leave the next morning.
Chapter Five: BUTTERFLIES AND OTHER CREATURES
We were away at 8.30am. There was no wind to speak of, so we motored around Cape Melea, the last finger of the Peloponnes, and the isolated hermitage of Ák Maléas.
After lunch the wind picked up enough to motorsail with the genoa which increased our average speed by about 1 knot to around 6 knots. There was a lot of open water to the Cyclades islands, and after the first few miles when we had to stop for a couple of ships on their way to Athens crossing our path, we were not disturbed any more. For a while we had dolphins playing on Cordelia’s bow which was the only interruption to our solitude.
We stopped the engine at 8.00pm and started our shift patterns at 9.00pm. Peter went below and Ingrid was on deck and delighted in the abundance of stars in the sky and also in the water in form of bioluminescence. The lights of aeroplanes high above us flickered to their destinations, and of course Ingrid made a wish when she saw a couple of shooting stars. We were still passing the first few islands of the Southern Cyclades when Peter took over at midnight. He had an uneventful watch and towards the end spotted the first lights on the next islands. During Ingrid’s second watch the wind dropped and at 5.00am the engine was needed once more.
We had breakfast between the islands of Skinos, Ios and Santorini, then the wind came back, so the engine was replaced with the mainsail.
We were sailing along majestically at around 6 knots, and put a reef in both sails when we were doing over 7 knots. After lunch we had another brief visit by dolphins and entered the realms of the Dodecanese. It had been champagne sailing but now the wind shifted forward and we were heeling more. It was getting exciting again!
We could see our destination island of Astípalaia AKA (also known as) Butterfly Island due to its shape long before we were near it, and were met by big gusts of wind interspersed with no wind. So for the last hour of our passage we switched on the engine and took down the sails. We finally reached the narrow passage that led us into the inlet of Vathi where we found respite and dropped the anchor.
This was a quiet place with goats bleating, a couple of dogs barking, a cockerel crowing and a donkey braying onshore amidst half a dozen buildings. We motored Buddy to the pontoon outside Maria’s Taverna where she would cook for you but you’d have to lay and clear up your own table and serve your own drinks from her fridge.
We were early and it was closed, so instead we followed a track which took us uphill and, we hoped, to a little chapel near the top. It turned out to be a dead end to a farmhouse with free roaming cattle, so we quickly walked back to where we’d come from. We looked around and found the right path that led along the embankment, past a little beach, through a couple of fields and up a rocky hill to a house where the owner waved us through her front garden that was adjacent to the chapel. We entered into a lovely cool room with your typical Greek icons on the wall and an altar in the middle.
On our way back we were stopped and addressed as “Lady and Gentleman” (clearly a case of mistaken identity) by a man who was doing up his farmhouse. He proudly showed us around his bathroom, kitchen/diner and two bedrooms. Although the restoration had not yet been completed he had already installed water and electricity, and the walls were white-washed. He explained he intended to rent it out through Air B&B for €150.00 a month or €2,000.00 a year. He was clearly making up the numbers on the spot but asked us to tell anyone who might be interested in a retreat (or on the run?) about his offer. We promised we would and left him to finish it off.
With another Meltemi forecast and provisions running low we continued along the North-East coast to find shelter and food in the South. And what a coast it was! Steep rock faces fell straight into the sea that had pounded against them and had left its traces in form of caves and inlets. We had hardly a ripple on the water, so motored to our anchorage at Ormos Steno. We loaded Buddy with our rubbish, took our rucksacks and made it to shore. We climbed up the embankment to the road, followed it, dumped the rubbish in the bins near a closed campsite, passed the power station and finally reached the outskirts of Astípalaia and its supermarket. It was well stocked, so we filled our rucksacks in anticipation of the wind predicted for the week ahead, and schlepped it all the way back.
The wind duly arrived the next morning, initially from the West but it changed to the North at lunchtime. By the evening we saw gusts of 50 knots. We spent the next five days ship-bound and entertained ourselves with crosswords, podcasts, YouTube videos, an audiobook (Troy by Stephen Fry, befittingly), swims and copious amounts of tea and coffee.
Then, when the gusts started with a 3 on their double-figured knots instead of the 4s and 5s we’d experienced we took Buddy back to the beach and went off to explore the town.
We walked the familiar road to the supermarket and from there carried on up the hill through Chora with its white-washed façades complete with blue doors and shutters. We reached a row of out-of-commission windmills and from there made our way up the narrow alleys and steps to the Querini Castle.
We walked in its ruins and took in the views before we descended through Astípalaia to the harbour. It was a beautiful little town, sleepy, with only a handful of tourists left and most of the bars, restaurants and souvenir shops closed for the season. On the way back we stocked up at the supermarket and paid it another visit the next day for liquid provisions. Then, after having spent eight days hiding out in this anchorage and with the Meltemi on its last leg, we prepared for departure.
Chapter Six: TREAT AND RETREAT
We weighed anchor just after 6.00pm. It was blowing 25 knots, so we kept a reef in the sails when we first hoisted them, but shook it out when we were outside our bay and the wind eased.
Once we’d passed the island of Astípalaia we took full advantage of the wind and were doing an hourly average of over 6 knots. We had a great sail under full moon and neither of us felt the need for sleep. We briefly lost the wind at the island of Nisiros when we passed below it, so we motored till we’d cleared it, then reverted back to sailing, and eventually motorsailed our way to Symi. We reached the anchorage of Panormítis shortly after 9.00am.
The anchorage was busy with other boats, and there were also ferries coming in with pilgrims and tourists. Whenever the latter arrived the monastery rang a tune on their bells to welcome them.
We took a walk to the windmill at the harbour entrance, then turned round, checked the opening hours for the monastery and visited it the next morning.
The ferries hadn’t yet arrived and we were the only ones at this major pilgrimage site when we walked up the steps and entered an atrium with more steps leading up to the monks’ cells.
To its left we found the chapel dedicated to the archangel Michael. The walls inside were fully painted top to bottom, chandeliers hung from the roof, St Michael was depicted on a separate wall face, and the scent of frankincense filled the room.
We also waited for the museum to open but it never did when we were there, so we went to the bakery instead and came away with fresh bread and apple pastries – mmmhhh, yummy!
We had a wonderful time at Panormítis on Symi. The island was less barren than Astípalaia, less windswept and even featured some greenery in form of shrubs and trees. The air smelled nice, the water was still warm and had a turtle swimming in it, and it was very peaceful. You were not allowed to play any music, so it was also very quiet, and all we could hear were the goat bells during the night and the chanting of the monks during mass. This was a proper retreat!
We, however, felt the need to press on, upped anchor and motored out of this natural harbour. The forecast had predicted a Westerly wind, force 4-5, and we had been looking forward to a nice downwind sail on the genoa. As it was, we had a force 2 out of the bay, between the islands and in Turkish water. It wasn’t until midday when we had enough wind to sail. At first we were going slowly at just over 3 knots, but as the wind increased so did our speed. By the time we reached our destination in Rhodes it was blowing a hooley, and we were grateful for the assistance of a friendly marinero who took the lines and helped us moor up in the marina.
Chapter Seven: ON THE RHODES OF ANCIENT GREECE
The port police was closed in the afternoon when we arrived, so we checked in first thing the next morning. It was the by now familiar business with photocopies and stamps before we were sent on our way. In this instance our way was along the harbour road to the tourist/ferry harbour where a cruise ship had just disposed of it punters. We followed the hoards past the city walls to Mandraki Harbour. Along the way we encountered windmills, a castle, church, mosque and a few statues. On the entrance to the harbour we looked at the place where, according to legend, the Colossus once stood. Now it featured a statue of a stag on one side and that of a deer on the other. We walked back to our marina within the walls and its shops and restaurants. We certainly weren’t the out-of-season tourists any more as the place was heaving!
When it got cloudy with drizzle which later turned into a thunderstorm with heavy rain, we occupied ourselves with boat work. Buddy was lifted onto the pontoon, Peter gave him a thorough wash, deflated him, and we stowed him away in the locker to hibernate. Ingrid reset our laundry clock with the help of our hand-crank washing apparatus. We stocked up on food, water, wine and other liquids, and even found English mustard and Robinson’s squash on one of the many trips to the supermarkets. At a chandlery nearby we were able to get engine oil, anodes, polish and other useful boating paraphernalia. And we got a haircut, at a proper hairdresser this time!
When it cleared out we switched to sightseeing mode. We wandered to the Old Stadium where once upon a time they’d held races, ascended the Amphitheatre to the Acropolis, noted the huge columns that were mostly obscured by scaffolding, and made it to the Sanctuary of Artemis.
We walked along the road that ran above Rhodes and took in the panorama, passing more ruins on the way down into town.
Peter had checked the visiting days for cruise ships and found Monday to be completely free of them. We used this revelation to get back within the walls for a more detailed inspection of the sites without the crowds.
Our excursion took us past the Temple of Aphrodite to the Archaeological Museum with its exhibits concentrating on burial customs. We saw sarcophagi, altars, amphorae and various grave goods all displayed around a courtyard that led off into showrooms of different sizes.
We also strolled through its garden with statues, water features and of course bushes and trees.
We entered the Ottoman House and looked at its living quarters before we went back into the main building where we found coats of arms and more statues. After a spot of lunch on one of the harbour benches we walked to the Palace of the Grand Master (Rhodes used to be the major centre of the Templars).
There we observed the mosaics and furniture which had been cobbled together over centuries.
We paid our dues to enter the ramparts of the city walls and looked down from there to the moat and fortifications, and spied into people’s private gardens.
We dearly liked Rhodes. Had it not been for the swell in the marina every time there was a hint of a Northerly wind, we may well have considered it for a future overwintering location. As it was, we trundled off to the tourist harbour where firstly Peter got a “check-out-of-Schengen” stamp in his passport at the immigration office. Next was the customs office where we got our papers inspected and our crew list stamped and photocopied. Lastly, it was back to the port authorities for more stamps on our paperwork. There they retained our transit log, took multiple copies of all kinds of documents, and handed us the stamped crew list. We paid €5.00 for the privilege and thus concluded our official time in Greece.
Chapter Eight: A STING IN THE TAIL
Our intention had been to leave Rhodes at around 6.00pm after filling up with fuel for the 300NM passage to Cyprus. We’d calculated it would take us about 60 hours to get there, so we would hang around outside the Karpaz Gate Marina until dawn in order to enter the harbour during daylight. The plan changed when we found out that the fuel station closed at 2.00pm. We filled our tank and 20 litre container just before it did, and as the wind was already blowing a force 5-6 and was from the right direction, we left shortly afterwards.
We set the genoa and got sailing. As the wind was directly behind us we kept moving the sail from one side to the other to fill it, but otherwise enjoyed a comfortable ride. That was until we were eating our dinner which was a prompt for the wind and swell to play up. We were rolling again, and Peter made arrangements to sleep on the floor in front of the cooker. By 7.00pm it was dark, but soon the sky filled with stars. At 9.00pm Ingrid took her first watch. She couldn’t see the waves but Cordelia was surfing down on them, and the genoa was flogging because of it. How we missed our whisker pole to keep the sail in place, alas, the end was still broken and it couldn’t be used!
We’d already adjusted our course slightly to calm things down, but when Peter was trying to sleep on the floor he had little success due to the noise of things being moved around. At midnight he came up for his watch. He had a couple of boats to dodge while Ingrid was resting below on our makeshift bed. At 3.00am we put on the engine as the batteries had gone down to less than 80%. It also made the ride more stable, so for the last two hours of his off-watch Peter adjourned to our cabin and slept on the bed. At 6.00am we swapped, and after our breakfast we hoisted the mainsail.
We managed to goose-wing but had to alter our course a little to make it happen. Nevertheless we made good speed. By lunchtime we furled away the genoa as it had started flapping in the 2 metre steep waves. This meant we weren’t going quite as fast under the mainsail alone, but it was definitely more comfortable. We had an early dinner and looked at the stars from the cockpit when it got dark. Peter had developed a headache and an upset stomach, the latter of which he tried to cure with whisky, hangover remedy, schnapps and peppermint tea. He went below for a lie-down at 8.00pm, and Ingrid started her watch early.
There were a few boats around but nothing to worry about. The wind and swell decreased, and so did our speed. At 11.00pm Peter was back up, and we centred the mainsail and switched on the engine, then Ingrid went to bed at midnight. Peter had a decent watch, it was only his stomach that gave him trouble. There were some clouds about, so he didn’t see the moon rising, but by the time Ingrid was back on duty it was shining nicely. And this was all that accompanied us during the rest of the night. There weren’t even any targets on the AIS, which indicated just how alone we were in this vast expanse of water.
By morning Peter had recovered a bit and even sucked off the salt of two peanuts he offered to our stowaway. This was a little finch-type bird that had chosen our anchor as a resting place. It didn’t eat but flew away after a while.
We spent the time in the cockpit in the hazy sunshine. There was hardly a ripple on the water now, so we kept motoring in calm seas.
We busied ourselves with a crossword and Peter even got the fishing rod out. We had lunch – sandwich for Ingrid, yoghurt for Peter – when the reel went off. Fish on! We saw it jumping and it was of a decent size, but it jumped itself off the hook and got away. This was just as well as we would have still been dealing with it an hour later when the wind and swell picked up once again and were – you guessed it – directly on the nose. We didn’t fancy pounding into the sea for the last 60NM, so we changed course, took the mainsail down, and headed for the protection of Cyprus’ landmass. This also gave us the chance to get an updated forecast and to call the marina to inform them of our arrival.
After a while the wind calmed down, and five hours after motoring towards land we altered course again and followed the coast North towards Karpaz Gate. Peter nursed his stomach in our cabin between 8.00pm and 10.00pm, then we swapped and Ingrid slept. She woke up at 11.00pm, and when Peter confirmed all was good went back to bed. An hour later Cordelia was slamming. The wind had steadily increased during this time and was now hitting 30 knots. This had not been in the forecast!
Waves were washing over Cordelia and her sprayhood, and soaked the cockpit. The wind peaked at 35 knots, Cordelia was shaking, bouncing and flinging things from one side to the other, us included. Peter’s guitar case fell on the floor with a big bang, our folding bikes were sliding around loudly, the sink was gurgling, and the contents in the cupboards made their own noise and added to the pandemonium. All of this in the dark! We definitely had no desire to hang around waiting for daylight in these conditions and battled on towards our destination.
When we had about half an hour to go Ingrid called the marina to check if it was safe to enter and was told they were waiting for us, following on from the earlier phone call. When she inquired again as to the conditions and safety of entry they repeated they were waiting and we should proceed. Ingrid had prepared the fenders and lines when it had still been light, and now was glad that she didn’t have to spend more time than necessary outside the cockpit to prepare for the mooring. Soon we turned the last corner and surfed downwind towards the marina entrance, made a hard left turn and entered.
It was still howling inside but conditions were much calmer, and only occasionally did the spume make it over the breakwater and wet the quay. We were happy to have reached sanctuary and to see the marinero’s torchlight guiding us towards our temporary berth at the visitors’ pontoon. At 2.00am we were moored up, presented insurance and boat papers to the marinero, and our passports to security. They took it all with them and left us to it, so we secured Cordelia and went to bed.
We slept well and got up at 7.00am. We cleared up the mess of the previous night’s escapades when there was a call for the captain. Peter spoke to the marinero and answered his questions on our intentions. The next visitor was from immigration who came onboard and glanced into the cabins and heads, apparently looking for stowaways. It was a good job the bird had left! Then we got ourselves ready to be taken to the on-site customs office. We were issued with a 30 day visa and got our passports back. Lastly we were led to the marina office where we checked in and paid for our mooring contract over a nice cup of tea. We were provided with residents access cards and log-in details for the Internet, and were shown the facilities before we went back aboard. Peter took down the Q (quarantine) flag, we had more tea, Ingrid went back to bed, and Peter connected his various devices to the Internet.
In the afternoon we took a short excursion and wandered around the compound. We found our nearest facilities, the restaurant, fitness centre, chandlery (as good as empty), shop (even more so), and walked to the Beach Club with its infinity pool and bar.
We also followed the road up to the car park which was surrounded by rosemary bushes – the best smelling car park ever! Little serpentines led back down to the marina and boatyard. The wind had finally eased, but we stayed on the pontoon as there was no-one around and we were in no hurry to move. We had crossed from one side of the Mediterranean Sea to the other, sailed 2,529NM over 179 days, spent 130 nights on anchor and 10 at sea, dodged the Mistral and Meltemi winds, and had finally reached our home for the winter. We had plenty of time to settle in! We moved to our permanent winter berth the next day with the help of two marineros and their RIB, tied on the lines to the finger pontoon, and connected to electricity and water. We were sure we were going to have a great time in Northern Cyprus!
Thoroughly enjoyable read whilst on a night shift here in the cold UK! hope you guys are well