Chapter One: LEAVING THE SARONIC GULF
It was already heating up in hardly a waft as we motored out of the bay of St. George Stenou on the island of Salamis. We found a little bit of wind later on, just enough to motorsail on the genoa, but, alas, it did not last. We didn’t mind too much as we were now on the ferry route into Aegina and appreciated the manoeuvrability under engine. We arrived safely at Aegina town, and found a sandy patch in 7m for the anchor at 10.05am.
After a cup of tea and a biscuit we launched Buddy and motored into the small boat harbour. We dropped our empty plastic bottles into the bin and wandered along the seafront’s busy road in search for the port police. After slaloming past the seating areas of the tavernas, cafés and bars we found their offices in a side street. Their officers were efficient, friendly and quick to stamp our Transit Log.
Next, we continued our searching expedition to exchange our empty gas bottle for a full one. We went around the houses (literally) for a while, but eventually found a shop that would oblige. A brief stint to the Kritikos supplied us with ice-creams and cold drinks, then we walked back along the beach on the adjacent road. A little snack on board provided the energy to pack up and get out of the swelly and noisy anchorage (though it had been good for a mini reset).
On the way back to Salamis we, once again, dodged ferries, cargo and fishing boats, but, in return, saw some dolphins. We’d prepared the halyards, but still there was not enough wind to sail, and the little wind we had came from all the different directions and inevitably ended up on the nose. We had intended to head back to Trinisia for the night, but through the binoculars Peter could see that a yacht had already taken prime position and in addition was surrounded by smaller motorboats.
So instead, after a bit of circling around and a brief detour to another (unsuitable) anchorage, we opted for Kanákia. There we found plenty of space in front of the beach with clear turquoise water around us. The hook went down into 8m, and Ingrid could see it and the chain as we were setting it.
We both enjoyed a good night’s sleep in very calm conditions. People who’d camped on the beach had also been quiet and any music had been kept to a low volume. We were awake at 6.00am and had a leisurely breakfast. By the time we had cleared up and prepared Cordelia the swell had built up to a level that made us eager to leave.
At 7.50am we upped anchor and motored out of Kanákia in no wind. An hour later we got a North-Westerly, Force 4, so we unfurled the genoa to the first reef and kept the engine on. We were approaching the tanker anchorage and remembered the conditions on the way up, so decided to stay cautious. As it was, the wind didn’t go ballistic on this occasion, and we made it through without a hitch. However, once again we had to avoid traffic around Athens on our way to the other side of the separation zone.
When the wind switched to an Easterly, Force 4, we unfurled the genoa to its full size and kept this configuration going while the wind increased to a North-Easterly, Force 5. We were whizzing along at an average speed of around 6 knots (still under engine), and just gybed the genoa with the altering wind direction. We enjoyed an uneventful ride all the way to our anchorage in Anavissou Bay where, as a matter of course, the wind was blowing 30 knots. At 1.10pm the hook went down into sand in 7.2m, and we saw the windsurfers out in full force. We kept watching them all afternoon, then we switched to the F1 race in Silverstone on Swiss TV. We also received confirmation to our e-mail booking request at Olympic Marine for the next night.
When we got up the next day the wind had gone and the bay resembled a millpond. We weighed anchor at 8.00am and motored along the coast past Poseidon’s Temple to Olympic Marine at Lavrion. There wasn’t much traffic about, the only remarkable boat we saw was the charter cruise ship “Dream” which featured over 30 guest rooms and all kinds of fancy equipment that could keep any punter happy. Just after we’d passed it their helicopter landed on its pad to deliver some guests in style. Mind you, it does cost £2m per week to rent it!
We arrived at the marina just before 10.30am, but were stopped at the entrance when we were heading for the fuel station to join the queue. Peter circled around the outside area for a while until we were called in, and a friendly attendant helped us with the fuelling procedure. Another outside-the-entrance-area circling ensued once we were filled up, until a marinero in a RIB guided us to our berth at a finger pontoon.
It was 11.45am, and lunch was in order before we checked in at their office. We paid the extra of €5.00 for water, so Ingrid did some laundry in the knowledge we’d be able to refill our tanks. We’d also purchased some drinking water from the on-site shop, but later in the afternoon we walked along the road towards Lavrion to the MyMarket where we stocked up with food.
We were hot and sweaty when we returned, and Peter tried to fill the water tanks. No water came out, so while he went to the marina office to sort it out, Ingrid started cooking our dinner. The marinero arrived when she took in the dry washing. He opened our account at another tap after realising ours was dry, and we finally had our water.
We waited till after breakfast to give Cordelia a wash and shampoo. Ingrid couldn’t tell who was wetter – Cordelia from the rinse or she from the sweat. Anyway, it was her time for a shower next while Peter used the last of the water allowance to fill the tank to the brim. Afterwards we checked out, bought more bottles of drinking water from the on-site shop, and prepared Cordelia for departure.
We didn’t really need the marinero when we slipped our mooring at 11.10am, but it was good to have his RIB there just in case. We got out of the marina without a hitch, waved good-bye to mainland Greece and headed for its islands once more.
Chapter Two: ESCAPADES IN THE CYCLADES
We motored South towards the island of Kea. The wind picked up a bit after we’d passed its lighthouse, and when we altered course towards Kithnos island we unfurled the genoa. It was not windy enough to hoist the mainsail, so it stayed down and the engine stayed on.
When we rounded the North cape and motorsailed into the lee of the land the genoa started flapping, and we furled it away. Peter also reeled in the fishing line we had been dragging behind us. Other than our own lure there was nothing on the end of it.
We soon reached our anchoring spot at Loutra, but the sandy patches were behind the cordoned-off swimming area, and all we were left with was seagrass in 12m. We didn’t fancy our chances, so carried on down the coast in search for better options. We pulled into one bay which turned out to be too narrow for swinging on the anchor, and we therefore opted to continue to Agios Stéfanos. Three boats were there already, so we stayed away from them. Our first two attempts to anchor proved futile, and each time we upped the hook after ploughing the seabed its shovel and hoop was full of weed.
On the third attempt we struck lucky, and the anchor bit in 14.8m which we hoped to be sand/mud. We let out 43m of chain and stopped the engine at 6.15pm. Time for dinner! While we were eating and even afterwards when it was getting dark more boats arrived, pulled in ahead of us and dropped their anchors willy-nilly. Still, with no wind, they should be okay. Only one skipper in a monohull asked us about the holding and found an adjacent good spot where he set his anchor with 2,000rpm in reverse! We were re-assured and headed off to our beds soon afterwards.
It was 1.30am when our anchor alarm went off. The wind was gusting warm air off the land which had woken up Ingrid, so she knew immediately that we were not moving and it was a false alarm. Peter reset it, and we went back to sleep during a lull in the wind. When it picked up again Ingrid had a look around, then the alarm sounded again. It was 4.30am and we were fine, but soon after we’d made sure that we were, the first of the catamarans dragged. Luckily it was not into our Cordelia, but into our catamaran neighbour, a charter boat.
While they were sorting themselves out another boat dragged anchor, then another and another. There was pandemonium all around us and our 2,000rpm monohull neighbour, but we were still both holding firmly. Boats circled around, some tried to re-anchor further out, others were just holding position. When it got light, the latter left and some of the former checked their holding. Ingrid got the fenders back in that she’d put out during the dragging and circling period, and Peter switched off the deck light we had also deployed, then we had breakfast and prepared for the next leg of our journey.
We weighed anchor just after 8.00am and were immediately met by a North-Westerly, Force 5-7. We sailed along under the genoa with two reefs, but later decreased to one reef and still made an hourly average of just over 5 knots. At 8.50am the wind abandoned us and shifted to the South. We needed the engine for a while until the wind turned West and increased to a Force 4-5. We decided on motorsailing with the genoa as we didn’t trust the conditions, but probably would have had a pleasant stint of sailing with the mainsail instead of the engine.
Nevertheless, we managed to turn off the engine for a while and had a nice ride on the genoa until we reached the East coast of Serifos where it was blowing a hooley with over 40 knots. We quickly put away the genoa and motored down the coast which we found to look much like the ones in Kea and Kithnos, i.e. barren, rocky and brown with abandoned terraces and a few white-washed houses. To quote Lawrence Durrell: “There is nothing to see except the village, nothing to eat (as nothing is grown on the terraces any more), and nothing much to write home about”.
We made it safely into Livadi Bay and circled around to find a good spot to anchor. We eventually chanced on one in the North-East corner after several unsuccessful attempts, and had lunch. Still, when we swam out and checked on the anchor we were not happy, so up came the hook and down it went again into a sandier bottom. This time all looked well, and we began to relax with crosswords, white wine and peanuts.
The wind changed at 0.15am and was gusting around 40 knots. Our Italian neighbours who had looked at Peter like he was mad when he’d let out more chain the previous evening were dragging ½ hour later. Peter, who’d come up into the cockpit, gave a holler and shone the torch into their boat, but received no response from them. Then Peter used Jeremy, our klaxon (from Jeremy Clarkson), and gave a few blasts that resulted in someone shouting something in an angry voice. Nothing though from the Italians. Just before they hit a charter mobo they stopped. Their anchor must have caught!
We felt we were out of anyone’s harm and after 2.00am went back to doze for a couple of hours. We heard people talk and were awake again at 4.00am. We were sorting ourselves out with seats in the cockpit when Ingrid noticed an anchor light drifting out to sea and another boat trying to re-anchor next to Cordelia. Peter put the deck light on, and when the first light appeared in the sky we could see we had new (Spanish) neighbours. Other boats, too, were circling and looking for a new spot where they could anchor without dragging. Then the drifting anchor light came nearer. It was the Italians who were making their way back from their involuntary excursion. They must have finally woken up and realised they were all alone heading for open water. They dropped their anchor back near their original spot, let out more chain and went below (for more sleep??). At 10.00am they upped anchor and were away.
We found out later that quite a few boats had lost their holding during the night, many of them left early in the morning. We caught up with sleep in the cockpit, and later Peter checked on the anchor. It was not perfect, but still holding well. Eventually the wind decreased to 30 knots. We listened to music, observed a lonely wing-foiler, and watched boats come and go. We relaxed, and opted for an early night, hoping that the escapades of the last two days would not repeat themselves.
Chapter Three: EXPLORING IN THE CYCLADES
We recovered well from our sleep deprivation during a mostly undisturbed night, so we launched Buddy and motored to a makeshift dinghy dock in our corner. From there we walked along the beach to the harbour, and then towards the ferry port to the bus station.
The bus up to the Chora departed at 10.00am and was well worth the €2.00 each as it crawled up the serpentines and hairpin bends. We were both glad we didn’t have to drive there in a car ourselves with a bus coming the other way! We got off and marched up through the village with its white-washed houses, and reached the top at 245m. The view from there had been worth the effort, as we could see Cordelia in the bay far below.
We continued through the old castle grounds (only a few derelict remnants of the wall are still visible) past a chapel to a ruined windmill, then navigated a way through the alleys to the footpath that led back into Livadi.
We found a bakery cum café and energised with a frappé before we visited the supermarket at the bus stop. Neither of us could recall having ever seen a more expensive shop, so we walked back to Cordelia with only the bare essentials.
The anchor came up clean at 7.55am as we left Livadi Bay. Once we were on the direct course to the island of Sifnos we had the Northerly Force 5-6 behind us, so we turned off the engine and sailed on the genoa with one reef. The wind was up and down, and so were the waves, and at times Cordelia rolled heavily from side to side.
On the traverse we saw a few other boats in the distance, more to reassure us we were not alone rather than to bother us. The crossing was fine if not always comfortable, but the conditions improved when we reached the protection of the land. The waves diminished, but of course it was blowing hard when we entered the anchorage at Vathi. We had hoped to bury the hook in about 5m, but found that the buoys fencing off the swimming area came out to a depth of 9m. We circled around amidst the already anchored boats to find a suitable spot, and decided to hang at the back in 10m. Our anchor bit well with 35m of chain, and when Ingrid dived on it she was pleased to see it nicely dug into sand.
After lunch we used the binoculars to have a better look at our surroundings. There were actually green bushes and trees in this area! Peter immediately started to devise a walk for the next day, and we hoped the conditions would allow us to launch Buddy and go ashore.
We didn’t enjoy the night at all! Cordelia was swinging on her anchor from side to side, we had some big downdraughts that made strong windy noises, and we found ourselves in 15m of depth with only 35m of chain. Had we let out more we would have entered the swimming area with all its complications.
It was no wonder we were both wide awake at 4.30am, so we waited for the daylight with a cup of coffee. Any plans for walking and exploring on this island were thrown out of the window (or should that be hatch?) as Peter looked at less stressful options for sitting out the wind. With the current forecast our next planned anchorage would have been hard work to reach, but he found a place downwind that was only 8.5NM away – perfect!
We weighed anchor at 6.10am and motored out of the bay. The North-Westerly Force 5 gusted to Force 7 at the entrance, so once we’d cleared it we set a heavily reefed genoa. Away from the island of Sifnos we encountered a West-North-West Force 5 and further on Force 4, so the reef decreased and finally was shaken out altogether. We weren’t breaking any speed records, but cruised a steady 3.5 knots to the island of Kimolos. At Agios Georgios Bay we found our haven with good protection, fantastic clear turquoise water and sand all around the bottom to drop the anchor into. We deployed the anchor in 4.7m with 30m of chain and felt very confident it would hold in the forecast wind.
We had breakfast, a rest and a doze (Ingrid), then we attended to Cordelia’s hull. Ingrid managed to clean the port side inclusive of the keel before the dayboats arrived, and with them the gusts and swell. The sun worshippers began to fill the white sandy beach, and as there was no noisy beach bar nearby we embraced a kind on “holiday in paradise” feeling as we observed the comings and goings.
In the morning we prepared Buddy and motored ashore. There we discovered that what we’d believed to be white sand was actually sand covered with gypsum dust from the nearby mine. The volcanic activity around these islands had brought up the minerals from the earth, and these had been mined since ancient times. Kithnos had copper and iron, Sefnos got gold and silver, and Kimolos was left with this white stuff. Still, it did look pretty!
We ditched some of our rubbish in the bins at the beach, then walked along the footpath to the (closed) chapel of St. George. It was situated at the entrance to the bay and provided good views over it as well as out to sea. We retraced our steps and carried on along the “road”, i.e. a dirt track, to the small settlement at Prassa. It consisted of a few pueblo-style white-washed houses and hovels, and a fish restaurant which had rather steep prices (it wasn’t opened for business as we were early). When we turned back the beach just began to fill up.
Some of the boats had left, so before it got too crowded Ingrid had a little skinny-dip to check on the anchor (perfect). We also managed to put Buddy back in his place before the big gusts built up. The latter brought the gypsum dust which soon covered Cordelia and everything on her. Once again, boats came and went, spat out their punters and collected them again. We held on to our crossword book in the vicious downdraughts and gust bullets, together with everything that wasn’t tied down, and wore our sunglasses to protect our eyes from the dust. Thus the afternoon passed, and despite those conditions we had our dinner on deck, it being only slightly iced with the white stuff.
We spent a few days sheltering from the wind before we were ready to move on. We had to motor as there was hardly any wind and later on we were going through the wind shadow of Sifnos. A couple of hours later we’d cleared it and got a nice Northerly Force 4, so we hoisted both sails.
For an hour or so we had a lovely ride, but when we neared the islet of Strongylí we lost some of the wind and referred to motorsailing. This brought us to Despotikó where we hung a left and turned into the beautiful gap between this island and Antipáros. The anchorage was huge, and we dropped the hook in 3.8m in sand with gorgeous turquoise water surrounding us, and a good view towards the Temple to Apollo and Artemis (closed).
The night was damp and windless, and consequently everything on deck was wet, including Ingrid’s bed covers. It had also been quiet apart from the usual barking dogs and a little chatter and music from the shore. We dried off and weighed anchor just before 9.00am. We didn’t have far to go and motored through some swell all the way to Aliki on Páros where we dropped the anchor at 10.30am on the second attempt in sand.
Then, after a cup of coffee and a biscuit, we prepared Buddy. We found a little dinghy harbour, got rid of our rubbish, shopped at the Kritikos and popped into the bakery. Some of the buns were consumed for lunch, the bougatsa was for later with cappuccino. We did crosswords and cooled off in the very clear water, and later in the afternoon Ingrid cleaned Buddy, the foredeck and the sprayhood windows.
We were on our way again at 8.10am the next morning. We encountered some swell further out, but no wind, and motored along quite happily. Then, as we passed the southern end of Páros to start our traverse to Naxos the wind picked up, first from the North in a Force 4, then the North-West Force 5. We hoisted both sails and had a wonderful ride for nearly two hours. We certainly hadn’t expected this given the forecast, but what a bonus it was!
At the Gaitani Cape on Naxos the wind dropped back to its predicted strength and we motorsailed until its direction changed to the East Force 3, i.e. on the nose. The genoa was flapping, so we put it away, but the mainsail stayed up till we reached our anchorage at Detis Bay on Káto Koufonísi.
What a beautiful spot! The clearest turquoise water we’d ever seen ran through the whole of the bay with plenty of room to anchor. We dropped in 4.8m with 20m of chain in white sand (not gypsum!), and reset it in the evening when the wind turned towards North again. Ingrid went for a swim after lunch and discovered some cool patches to refresh her.
We were keen to explore more of the area, so we got Buddy ready and motored to the beach. From there we picked up a path, then a dirt track that led uphill. We had good views down to Cordelia who was dwarfed among the catamarans and motorboats. Further on we encountered a “posh” hippie garden and house, then we went downhill past the campsite to a rather charming taverna. A little bit further along the beach was a chapel, but a fence prevented us from walking any further.
We turned back, and Peter sat under a comfy tree near the hippie dwelling to have his hair cut. The cicada that lived in the tree protested noisily to the conversion of its home into a salon, but it didn’t take long before Peter emerged all dapper and the insect could enjoy peace in its residence once again. Back on Cordelia we had a quick shower, Peter to rinse his hair and Ingrid to stop from overheating. We were experiencing another heatwave and did our best to keep cool, including refreshing with an ouzo snifter.
Nonetheless, we had a delightful time, before we decided to move on.