Chapter One: OFF TO KOS
We had enjoyed a pleasant stay in our anchorage at Koufonísi. Now we were awake before sunrise and weighed anchor just before 7.00am. There was no wind to speak of and the sea was like an oil slick, which meant we needed the engine to get going. Then as we approached the South-West coast of Amorgós the wind made an appearance. We started with a motorsail, but after about ½ hour we progressed under sail alone.
As we rounded Cape Kalotiri the wind built up and Ingrid asked Peter whether he wanted to put a reef in the genoa. “No”, he replied, only to state two seconds later “We need to reef the genoa”. At the cape the wind gusted 35 knots from North-West, so we put a second reef in the genoa and one in the mainsail, with Cordelia still doing 6.5 knots. The fun ride lasted for a good hour before the wind decreased.
We tried motorsailing, but when the sails began to struggle we ditched them both. The rest of the journey was under engine with the winds of Force 2 from North-West, West, South-West, South-East, North-East and anything in-between. With no breeze cooling us we felt the heatwave taking effect as we tried to stay chilled under the bimini with refreshments of the liquid and solid kind.
We approached the island of Astipálaia at its western side and avoided the rocks of Pondikousa and Vrak Ktenia. At Cape Khilos Peter hauled in the fishing line with the empty lure looking very bedraggled and sorry for itself. As usual, the wind built up as we neared the anchorage, but we found a well-protected space in 7m of sand, and dropped the hook just after 4.00pm.
We spent a lovely time on Astipálaia. We swam in its clear waters, walked up the hill to the Aegian Villas, enjoyed a frappé in one of their cafés, and even went out for dinner. It was still hot, however, even during the night, so we decided to leave and find some place cooler.
We motored out of Livadhia Bay and kept going under the engine despite a little breeze later on until we were certain there would not be any nasty surprises round the last headland of Astipálaia. Just before we reached it we were confident enough to hoist both sails and motorsailed till we passed it and caught the forecast North-Westerly Force 4 wind.
That’s when we turned off the engine and enjoyed a very pleasant 3½ hours’ sail to Kos. Along the route we encountered a couple of big ships and one drifting fishing boat for which we had to take evasive actions, but it all turned out well.
When we approached the headland of Kos Ingrid spotted an extremely heeled and overpowered monohull ahead. We quickly doused our sails and switched on the engine. Moments later we were hit by 40 knot gusts and were glad we’d come well prepared for them. Then, as soon as we’d rounded the cape the wind eased and eventually disappeared altogether. This lasted till we had clear sight of our anchorage when it started howling again. Peter increased the revs to 1,800rpm and Cordelia bravely punched her way through to our destination at Kéfalos. At 2.10pm we dug the anchor in 4.6m in sand and let out 34m of chain. Ingrid checked on it while Peter cleared up, then we had a late lunch.
For the rest of the afternoon we watched the windsurfers around us. We were eager to give it a go ourselves. We got plenty of opportunity over the next ten days or so, enjoyed some great effortless blasting and fought in the ever-changing conditions.
When the wind changed direction to South-West we sought better protection in the western side of the bay before we returned. This also gave us a better chance to go on land.
We motored in Buddy into Kamári harbour and dragged him on land next to the slipway. While Peter had a look at the anchorage on the other side of the quay Ingrid struggled to put on her shoes. She noticed that her feet must have put on weight as they hardly fitted into her trainers. Feat accomplished, we set off on the road along the beach, but soon turned inland on a shortcut that took us up to the main road. It was 9.30am and we were sweating like the proverbial. Still, we carried on up and around some bends before we reached a set of stairs that led to the plaza in Kéfalos town. Further along the road we found our goal – the castle. Not that there was much of it to see, so we concentrated on the view down to the beach. After a brief stop we continued towards a windmill, but it was one of the touristy kind with an entrance fee. As we’d seen plenty of more authentic ones we weren’t bothered with this one, so instead made our way back to the plaza and the supermarket situated there and came away with a cold Fanta, ice-creams and some other goodies at a “reasonable” price. These sustained us on the way down till we reached the Kéfalos supermarket. We found fresh vegetables and a bougatsa, and left with heavier rucksacks, but happy.
Peter had devised another walk, so we were ashore again just after 9.00am. We took a (different) road up to head inland, by-passing Kéfalos town altogether. The road was quiet albeit at times rather steep, and provided some great viewpoints. Near the top was a fountain and Ingrid looked forward to cooling her hands and washing her sweaty face. Peter had already found a shady place to sit down next to it, and she was keen to join him.
However, as soon as she approached she heard a buzzing noise following her around. She thought at first it was a squadron of big flies and turned on the tap. She got as far as holding her hands under the water when she felt something crawling under her hat. Next came the pain. These weren’t flies, they were bees! One of them had gotten entangled and had stung her, and another one was now holding on to her hair. She managed to free herself from the first one (it was probably dead by now), but was under threat of being stung by the second one.
She could also sense the rest of its mates ganging up on her, so she sprinted across the road to widen the distance. Number Two was still holding on, determined to revenge his friend even if it would cost his own life, while constantly calling out for his pals. “Help me”, Ingrid shouted out to Peter, getting desperate. The first sting was smarting, and she had no desire for a second dosage. Peter sprang to her rescue and shooed the blighter away. He also removed the stinger by squeezing the flesh over Ingrid’s skull where it had embedded itself. He stopped short of sucking the venom, nevertheless Ingrid survived the attack.
Ingrid had brought along a drink and now held the cool bottle against her wounded skin for some relief while we walked to our goal of the day. The Ancient Theatre of Astypálaia consisted of a few rocks and was situated within a pine forest. We rested in the shade, then walked back up to another little archaeological site with a few broken Dorian columns strewn around. We sneaked past the “Fountain of Doom” and the monsters lurking around it to pick up a dirt track through the forest that took us in a loop back down towards Kamári. After 3.5 miles and 177m up and down, plus one bee sting, we rewarded ourselves with a frappé before we headed back to Cordelia.
Adventures aside, we were also able to reprovision with pizza, bougatsa and other essentials before we left windy Kéfalos.
Chapter Two: LAST STOP SYMI
We upped anchor and were away at 12.20pm. At 12.30pm the engine was turned off and the genoa was unfurled. The Westerly Force 5 blew us nicely downwind as we were averaging 4.2 knots per hour.
The waves were building up to about ½m, but as they came from behind, too, we hardly noticed them. We had a lovely sail for nearly 2½ hours, and it was only once we turned into our anchorage at Ormos Gyalí when we put on the engine. 15 minutes later we’d dropped the hook in 5.7m in sand and were well dug in.
This was a nicely protected bay with only the occasional swell from passing boats. The sea was warm and clear with fantastic turquoise water, courtesy of the colour of the seabed. It had been covered with the white dust from the pumice mines nearby for which the island is famed. They dig up 1 million tons a year and export it all over the world where it is used from construction work to horticulture. We just hoped Cordelia wouldn’t collect too much of this dust as we were staying the night. Despite an at times rolly night we slept well. It had also been damp with hardly a breath of wind, and Ingrid was glad to discover the dust hadn’t reached Cordelia when she opened her eyes in the morning.
At 7.40am we weighed anchor and motored out of Gyalí Bay. It took about an hour for the wind to build up to a Westerly Force 5, and by 9.00am we were already sailing along under the genoa alone. The wind was dead from behind which made it difficult to chose on which side the sail should be flying. It also seemed that whenever we altered course, so did the wind. We ended up swapping the sail from one side to the other, then back, then starting all over again.
The waves also increased in height and frequency, and – though mainly from behind – appeared from all directions. Cordelia was rolling around, and below anything that wasn’t securely stowed fell over. The conditions made for a slow progress, so when the ETA moved to 5.00pm we engaged the engine to help us along. Peter had also hung out the fishing line, but its drag didn’t cause any impact, especially as we didn’t catch anything.
We sailed and motorsailed and alternated between the two, and had a decent ride. It wasn’t too exciting other than when the reel on the rod started to make a noise. It soon stopped though, as it had been a false alarm. We reached Panormítis on Symi at around 3.00pm, gave way to a ferry that was entering the bay at the same time, found a nice spot for our anchor in 7.1m sand, and settled in with a swim in the 28°C warm water.
The next day we launched Buddy, packed some swimming gear and our shoes, then Peter rowed us ashore at 9.00am. It was hot and we got quite a sweat on as we walked along the road. The view down into the bay was magnificent as we slowly, but surely, gained the 100m of height needed before we could turn off right onto a narrow concrete road. This led downwards through a pine forest inhabited by goats and bees, and emerged at Marathoundas Beach.
We arrived there after 10.00am and found the café and restaurant still closed. We each had a rest on one of their sunbeds under a parasol on a pebbly beach, and waited for them to open as we were both looking forward to a frappé. Still, there was no movement in either establishment. During the intermission we’d also gone off the idea of swimming in the salt water with no facility to shower off afterwards, and when a few more sunbathers turned up we put on our socks and shoes we’d taken off, and decided to head back.
The concrete road back up the hill wasn’t quite a trying as we’d imagined, and we soon reached the main road. To the right we could see the serpentines climbing up to 450m on the way to Symi Town, but we turned left and made our way back down to Panormítis.
A coach-load of holiday makers had been deposited there at the (self service) café, but Peter found us a table in the shade and Ingrid, along with two frappés, soon joined him. Before we returned to Cordelia we stopped by the bakery for a pineirli and bougatsa, the first we had for lunch with a glass of Lemnos white wine, the second was consumed with afternoon tea.
We also walked around the bay up to the windmill at the entrance of it. This time the door was open and we were able to check out the inside. There wasn’t much other than the remnants of a fireplace and narrow steps leading up to the first floor (nothing of interest there, either). On the way back we carried on to the café and popped into the bakery for another fill of pineirli and bougatsa.
Ingrid had e-mailed the marina in Pédi requesting a berth and when we received confirmation we prepared for departure. The anchor came up at 1.05pm, and while we motored all the way to Pédi due to no wind Ingrid prepared the lines and fenders for a stern-to mooring. Giorgos, the marinero, helped us in when we arrived, we had tea and bougatsa, then Ingrid checked us in with Cpt. Sakis. When she returned Peter had already filled up our water tanks.
Pédi turned out to be a good place for a reset. Ingrid caught up with all our laundry as there was plenty of water (for a price), we disposed of our rubbish and reprovisioned, and were able to exchange our empty gas bottle for a full one (also for a price). First, though, we strolled along the beach to check out tavernas, cafés and shops. They were all present, so off we trudged again after a brief rest and a change of footwear.
We picked up the main road to Symi Town and Gialós. We say main, though how any normal sized lorry or bus can make it, is beyond our imagination. After about 80m of height gained we’d made it to the crest, and from there took the stairs through the town to drop the height. We came out near the Port Police at Gialós who we visited for a stamp in our Transit Log.
Then we walked around the bay on a road with no Armco to protect any passing car, scooter or pedestrian from falling into the drink. To make driving more interesting the “road” wasn’t following a line, but had sections cut out like the builders hadn’t been bothered to fill it up to the same level as the rest of the lane. It also didn’t help that the seawater had no restraint and just flooded the road where it liked. We ducked and dodged and half-swam to Customs where a very nice lady confirmed that going to Turkey would be our best option regarding Peter’s missing month, as they would issue a new Transit Log when we’d return.
We also checked out the location of Immigration, and on the way back found a Kritikos for a cold drink and a top-up of our snifter reserves. With the help of Google Peter also detected a recommended bakery with home made bougatsa, and from there we fought our way through the crowd to the bus station. The next one was not until 45 minutes later, so we decided to walk back. We successfully tackled the stairs, and, as all the cafés along the way seemed to be closed, made it back to Cordelia for a cup of tea without a break for frappé.
A couple of days later we repeated the walk to Gialós to check out of Greece. The first stop at Immigration was soon done after Ingrid had waited at the portakabin for our turn. With Peter’s passport and the crew list stamped we got the formalities done at Customs with the very nice lady, then saw the Port Police to complete the procedure.
We also did some shopping at the Kritikos and carried it all the way back to Pédi. We put away the victuals, Peter filled up the water tank, and Ingrid went off to pay. When she returned the engine was running with Peter eager to cast off and leave.
By the time fenders and lines were stowed away and an early lunch was consumed we were in Turkish waters. Peter changed the courtesy flag and put up a new ensign, and at 1.00pm we anchored off Datça, ready to check into Turkey where our Greek bureaucracy-enforced holiday could begin.
