Chapter One: AROUND ODYSSEUS’ CAPE TO GÝTHEIO
We’d reached Katafigio, an anchorage South of Monemvasia on the Peloponnes. After a bit of a rolly night whenever a ship passed we were up and away after breakfast at 7.05am. There was no wind to speak of and the sea was calm as we motored South. We also had the current in our favour when we followed the coast with its wooded hills with a couple of settlements nestled into them.
With all these perfect (as well researched) conditions it took us just over an hour to reach the (in)famous Cape Maléas where Odysseus was blown out to sea and then took ten years to find his way home. We heeded the warning, but as we could see a wind line further out we decided against heading there for more clearance. As it turned out, we had a little but barely noticeable swell, and made it round the cape without any problems.
When we approached our next milestone, Cape Zovolo, the wind picked up to a Westerly Force 4-5 (on the nose!) which slowed us down a little. This, however, only lasted for ½ hour or so, then everything turned as before as we headed towards our anchorage at Lefki Bay, Elafonisos. It took us two attempts before our hook dug into sand and Ingrid could check on it. Another 1,500rpm on the engine in reverse would not make it budge, so we settled down and enjoyed the crystal clear turquoise water.
After lunch Ingrid jumped in it again with her fins, mask and a cleaning pad, and wiped the thin film of organic growth off Cordelia’s hull. We were well pleased with our CopperCoat work – after 3 months in the water Cordelia’s underside looked still very good and needed little cleaning.
After a damp night the cockpit was wet in the morning, but by the time we left at 8.05am it had started to dry out. Once again, there was no wind and we had to motor. We met with some swell when we rounded the headland and passed between Elafonisos and the island of Kithira, but the sea soon calmed and so did we.
We were two hours into our passage and crossing the Laconian Gulf when the reel on the rod made a whirring noise. Fish on! This time it wasn’t another monster from the deep, but a nicely sized skipjack tuna. While Peter cut us 2½kg of fillets Ingrid cleaned up in the cockpit. It had taken an hour from landing to the fridge, and we were exhausted!
While we had been busy the wind had picked up to a South-South-West Force 4, so Peter unfurled the genoa and we motorsailed the rest of our journey. We took the sail down when we entered the bay at Skoutári. Coming close to anchoring the wind changed direction to South-East and blew a Force 5, so we were now on a lee shore. We weren’t too worried though, as the wind was supposed to ease and the anchor had bit well into the sand. Peter fried some of the tuna for lunch and it was delicious, so we looked forward to a variation of it for dinner.
We settled in and stayed an extra day to relax and swim. The nights were quiet enough, but we grew tired of the afternoon swell and the wind that came straight into the anchorage, so decided to move on. There was no wind when we upped anchor at 8.10am and motored North along a picturesque coast. We had an uneventful journey and by 11.00am we had dropped the anchor in a sandy patch amidst seagrass at Gýtheio, the ancient seaport of Sparta.
After a cup of coffee we launched Buddy, and Peter rowed us to some steps along the sea wall. From there we walked to the little island of Cranae via a causeway. Legend has it that Paris and Helen spent their first night there when they eloped to Troy. We only made it to the lighthouse, passing a (permanently closed) museum that resembled a castle.
When we came back we followed the road to the harbour, then turned into town for the MyMarket supermarket. We stocked up with a few essentials before we made our way back. The wind had picked up, but there was hardly any fetch. We only got some swell from the daily incoming ferry, and again when it and a cruise ship left. We also got some rain, but it had all dried by the time we went to bed.
The next day Peter rowed us to the quayside, and at 8.00am we walked along the shore. He had planned a sight-seeing tour, and the first stop was at the harbour for two sculptures. Unfortunately they were backlit, so no photos were taken of the “Welcoming Man” or the “Mermaid”. We rounded the harbour and walked past multiple eateries until we reached the outskirts.
A road led inland to our second site. We found the Roman amphitheatre which was rather bijou, then set off in search for the third. Our quest led us uphill around the houses and finally to the foundations of a Roman bath. We wandered around the ruins before we were off again.
Down we went to an underdeveloped plaza where they’d forgotten to build all the pretty things. A few steps to the right was our last archaeological site, or at least it was signposted as such. However, straining our eyes by ogling as hard as we dared, all we saw was a field, admittedly mowed, but no signs of ruins or any other interesting attractions. Never mind, the next stop made up for it. We arrived at the MyMarket in no time for drinks and pizza, then got a bougatsa and feta cheese pie from the bakery.
We were back on Cordelia before it got too hot where we rehydrated and relaxed. We also enjoyed watching several boats coming into the anchorage for shelter. Not all of them were versed in the art of anchoring and were ploughing through the seagrass. One of the charter boats even attempted a stern-to mooring to Cranae Island!
We had hoped to sail down the coast to prepare for the rounding of our next cape, but the forecast showed a southerly wind and we didn’t fancy bashing into it. In addition, Pórto Kagio was due strong westerlies, so we decided to stay a few days until the conditions improved.
Chapter Two: OFF TO KALAMÁTA
At 7.25am we were all ready to leave and upped anchor. It was sunny with no wind as we motored South, passing the same scenery to Skoutári as we had on the way North. There was nobody about other than a couple of fishing boats, and it was only when we approached Kátronas when we spotted fellow yachties. We caught a little current for about an hour and averaged 6.5 knots.
It was 10.30am when we entered the inlet at Pórto Kágio where we circled around for a bit to find a suitable spot for our anchor. We’d seen four boats leave from there on AIS, and we took over their spaces. By 11.00am all was good, and we settled in. Nothing seemed to have changed since we’d last been there in 2022, and as it was already getting quite hot we decided against going ashore for a wander and cooled off with a swim instead.
The night was better than expected, and we were well rested when we weighed anchor just after 7.30am. Contrary to the forecast we were presented with a North-Easterly Force 3-4 outside the bay which meant we could unfurl the genoa for a motorsail until we approached Cape Tainaron. Cautious of headlands that send gusts of wind from any direction we put away the genoa near the lighthouse. The wind was indeed capricious and changed its direction to North-West, and we also experienced some swell. Still, we rounded the cape and headed North.
Wind and swell calmed until they disappeared altogether, consequently none of the sails were used again. We motored along the coast with its imposing cliffs and settlements with Mani-style stone houses, and mountains in the background. It was a hazy and hot day, but the breeze of the apparent wind kept us comfortable under the bimini. Four hours after the set-off we pulled into Dirou and dropped the anchor in lovely clear warm water on sand.
The next day we prepared Buddy with the outboard and motored to the little quay below the café. We clambered up to the road, and a couple of zig-zags later we arrived at the portacabin that served as a ticket office. Having purchased the tickets we marched back down to the café.
There we were asked to take a seat and wait for our numbers to be called up, but when a group of people were admitted, they waved us through, too. We were handed life jackets and walked down the stairs, and there it was – the Diros Cave!
We were shown to our very wet seats on a rowing boat, then glided through the shallow water amidst the stalactites and stalagmites. The gondolier knew the way which was good as it would have been easy to get lost in the maze. The boat trip was over quickly, and we got off at an underground slipway. From there we followed a well-lit path that meandered from one cavern to another with impressive formations of various sizes along the way. Peter took multiple photos as we lingered to take it all in.
All too soon we reached the exit and were back in the sunlight. A nice path led back to the café, then down to the beach. We took it to look at the chapel at the end of it, which was rather pretty inside. From there we retraced our steps to the road and turned off onto a path on the first bend.
It took us through bushes and trees with cobwebs spanning across them, and Peter fended them off with a stick. After about 10 minutes’ walk above the cliff we arrived on another beach. This one was prettier with trees for shade, but still consisted of near white round stones. We contemplated taking the road to get back, but as that would have involved a 150m climb and a 1½ hours’ walk we opted for the 10 minute hike on our path, and were back on board not long after that.
The swell picked up in the afternoon and was still coming in when we prepared for bed. It shook Cordelia from side to side, at times quite violently. Neither she nor her crew took any pleasure in this rocking, but there was nothing to be done but to bear it.
What an awful night! Cordelia got tossed around and we with her. The illuminations / spotlights at the ticket office and café disappeared when we were in a trough, only to pop back up on the crests to turn the night into day in the cockpit. We both had very little and much interrupted sleep and were relieved when the swell eased slightly in the early hours just before daybreak.
We got up early, managed to hold on to and eat our breakfast, and readied for departure. The anchor came up just before 8.00am, and we motored out into a windless and hazy day. We followed the coast up North, and could make out villages and anchorages in the distance, but doubted that anyone staying there had fared any better than us during the night. After about 3½ hours we turned at the Kitriés lighthouse and after another 30 minutes we dropped the anchor.
We’d arrived at a peaceful and picturesque place where there was no swell, and agreed that we “should have been here yesterday”. We were comfortable on board so didn’t venture ashore, and enjoyed a relaxing time. Ingrid even had a little snooze while we listened to a podcast.
The ensuing night was quiet with no swell, and we didn’t get out of our beds till 7.00am. We took our time, then started to weigh anchor just before 9.00am. The Chinese remote had been playing up for some time when letting out chain, and now Peter had problems taking it in. Finally the anchor came up with the dodgy back-up remote, and we were away. Peter had ordered a control for our new windlass from a chandlery in Kalamáta, and this was where we headed for.
During the one hour motor we prepared Cordelia for a stern-to mooring, and once the marinero had given the go-ahead to enter and shown us our berth Peter reversed into it like the pro he is. The marinero promptly exchanged our empty gas bottle for a full one, and not long afterwards the diesel lorry turned up. We filled up, then Ingrid went to the office to pay for our stay. We managed to fit in a cup of tea before we set off to the Lidl. Two rucksacks and a large soft bag were stuffed, we had an ice-cream, then walked back to Cordelia.
We were dripping when we stowed our provisions, so sat under the fan to dry off for a bit. We caught our breath, then were off again. We made it to the Sklavenitis, and came away with another rucksack-load each plus a bag. We needed a change of clothes as what we were wearing was soaked through with perspiration, so we both used the marina’s faded showers.
Next to the marina were the “Kalamata Free Divers”. Ever since we’d moved onboard it had always been Ingrid’s responsibility to dive into the water to clean Cordelia’s underside or remove any obstacle around her chain and anchor. When Peter had dropped his snorkelling mask in the drink it was Ingrid who retrieved it from 7m. She was therefore keen to pick up a few techniques on breath holding, equalisation etc. and had booked herself onto a ½ day taster course. Suffice to say that she picked up plenty of useful tips, but was not going to pursue a career in it. While she was “enjoying herself” (Peter’s words) Peter had been to the laundry and also installed the Lofran control for the windlass. In the afternoon we walked to the Coast Guard to check in. They were friendly enough and the three of them stared into a computer, feeding it information, then asking us to come back the next day for the check-out.
Consequently, on the next morning we grabbed Cordelia’s boat papers and took them to the Coast Guard. The officers there were surprised that Portochéli had not used the new computer system, but happily put three of their own stamps on our crew list, took a photocopy of our Transit Log and sent us on our way.
We gladly followed their instruction and prepared Cordelia for departure. We slipped our mooring, then Peter reversed us out towards the breakwater at 10.30am, turned Cordelia nose pointing forwards and took us out of Kalamáta Marina. Ingrid cleared up the lines and fenders as we motored towards Kitriés and after 6.2NM we dropped our anchor at 11.50am close to where we’d stopped before.
Chapter Three: AROUND METHÓNI
Just before 7.30am we raised the anchor and we motored out of Kitriés. We’d had no wind in the anchorage, but as soon as we were out of the bay we were met with an unforecast South-Easterly Force 3-4, enough to hoist both sails and turn off the engine for about ½ hour. Then the wind disappeared and what was left of it came from North-West. We furled away the backing and flapping genoa, but kept the main, albeit sheeted in. It caught some wind, and together with the engine we crossed the Messenian Gulf to the Cape of Akritas.
We had no issues rounding it, and rather than the overfalls marked on the chart we encountered a millpond-like sea. We passed between the island of Skhiza with Foinikoúnta on the mainland and headed for the island of Sapientza. There was an anchorage on its South-East side that had looked promising, but when we dropped the hook at 12.10pm it settled among the remnants of an abandoned fish farm. When Ingrid dived to check on it she found it surrounded by tires, a large tarpaulin, rocks and other debris. When we raised the anchor it came up with heavy chain links wrapped around it. Luckily they were not attached to anything on the bottom, so Ingrid could easily clear this obstruction.
We moved a few meters and tried again. The anchor and chain were nicely in the sand / mud with only a little weed around. However, right behind Cordelia was an underwater feature that resembled the skeleton of an upturned boat. If we were to let out more chain we would surely be entangled in that mess! Peter then also discovered that we’d need a permit from Kalamáta for the walk we had planned to the lighthouse. We didn’t have one, so we wouldn’t even be allowed to set foot on the island.
It was for those reasons that Peter looked at options on Navily and found another anchorage 2.2NM further North. It was popular with day trippers, but its bottom was clear, there wasn’t much wind, the day boats would leave us in the evening, and it was lovely and peaceful, so was the ideal place for us.
We were the only ones left in the anchorage when we got up, and also got ready to leave after breakfast. We upped anchor at 8.30am, then motored over to Methóni, circled around the anchorage for a bit to find a suitable spot, and dropped the hook at 9.15am. Ingrid swam out to check if it had dug in (it had), we had a cup of tea and biscuits and afterwards prepared Buddy.
We motored to the wooden pontoon near the castle and marched along the beach until we could enter its grounds. The compound consisted of two parts – the main city in the South and the acropolis in the North. They are separated by the “Square of the Arms” (the centre of commercial and social life) and the curtain wall on its North side. Both parts feature imposing fortification walls with towers and various other defensive complexes.
We walked to the South first and looked at various “Portas” (gates), one of which took us via a stone bridge to the Bourtzi, a coastal fortress of the early 16th century. Along the way we also admired the Ottoman baths, a ruin of a church that had been converted into a mosque (still in ruins), and other remains of edifices that showed the varied history of the place. It had started off as Venetian in the 1,200s AD, became Ottoman, changed hands between them, then was taken over by the Turkish-Egyptians in 1825, and later surrendered to the French. The Bembo and Loredan bastions in the acropolis were just another prove that the takeovers were not always peaceful, with the defeated population inevitably ending up as slaves or being slaughtered altogether.
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We left duly impressed and headed to a mini-market for drinks. We also found a bakery that had bougatsa and ice-cream, so motored back to Cordelia very happily.
We had a quiet, but slightly damp night, and were up and away after breakfast at 7.30am. Once again we had to motor in no wind, yet at one stage we got a Force 3-4 from North-North-West, i.e. on the nose, which was about as useful as a chocolate tea pot. We had an uneventful ride, and Ingrid prepared lines and fenders while still underway at cruising speed. There was plenty of room in the unfinished marina at Marathópoli, so Peter turned around inside to face Cordelia towards the entrance. At 10.40am a Dutch yachtie took our bow line, and Ingrid stepped off with the midships line.
By the time all lines were attached we were sweating waterfalls. Subsequently we sat below in the salon with the fan on full to dry our soaked skin. Still, the temperature reached 38ºC. Ingrid was knackered and had a doze while Peter went out to explore. When he returned he enticed her to a walk along the seafront.
They had plenty of nice tavernas there, but we carried on to the supermarket to stock up on liquids. We thought about stopping somewhere for a frappé, but then decided to return to Cordelia instead for a couple of ice-cold alcohol-free beers. We did some planning, looked at the forecast, and decided to go out for a gyros in the evening. It was delicious and filling, so we were sated when we went back to Cordelia for a cup of tea before bedtime. As we were in a marina Ingrid slept below, albeit with the fan on and a cold flannel on her head.
Chapter Four: GAMES AROUND KATÁKOLO
We were underway just after 7.30am and motored North. It was another hot and hazy day with little that stood out from the scenery except for a derelict hotel from the ‘60s that resembled a Disneyland castle. We changed course to avoid some fishing boats and also to keep on track, and pulled into the harbour in Kiparissia at 10.15am where we could have anchored inside. We, however, chose to moor up to the quay, and still got the benefit of the breeze.
After a cuppa we prepared to venture out (mad dogs and Englishmen). We walked uphill (about 140m) through the town, seeking out any shade available and inhaling any wafts of fresh air to stop us from overheating. We made it up to the ruins of the local castle where the admission was free but with access to the site being severely restricted. Consequently, we looked at some stone walls from afar, but enjoyed the fantastic views over the town. Kiparissia seemed to be a mixture of what it once was, is now, and what could have been.
We walked down through the backstreets on paved as well as unadopted roads with old and modern housing alongside. We also discovered the old railway station, complete with rusting wagons, which was abandoned following the 2011 financial crisis.
We bought drinks at the AB and carried them back to Cordelia. We relished the shade under the bimini, and together with a little breeze and cold liquid refreshments the cockpit turned out to be a pleasant place to spend the afternoon.
We slipped our mooring at 7.30am, and it was easy to get off the quay in no wind. We pointed Cordelia northwards, crossing the Gulf of Kiparissia in hazy conditions. We couldn’t make out any details along the coastline and only saw the bluish-grey contours of the mountains behind it. The wind was mainly on the nose and very light, but we did manage two short stints of motorsailing with the genoa. Peter put out the rod to create some excitement, but as there wasn’t even a nibble he sought entertainment by researching excursions on the Internet instead.
The wind gradually increased the closer we got to Katákolo, and by the time we pulled into the anchorage it was blowing 20 knots. At 12.30pm the hook bit well under the slightly murky water, but despite dropping it in just under 5m depth we couldn’t see the bottom. Another reason for not swimming out and diving on it to see into what and how well it had dug in was the local sea life. Whereas some anchorages feature turtles or welcome you by a pod of dolphins, this one was infested with barrel jellyfish. The only way Ingrid would enter this water was on Buddy! However, had it not been for those stingers the area could have been ideal for windsurfing along its long sandy beach.
We went ashore to check out the beach and the railway station, then walked along “Oxford Street” which was situated along the cruise ship harbour and was full of boutiques, tavernas and souvenir shops to cater for their passengers. After buying liquids at the AB we returned to Buddy via the carpark at the harbour. We’d found a water pipe there and filled our two 10l bottles before we motored back to Cordelia.
The train to Olympia left at 9.15am, and we were waiting for it at the station at 9.00am. When they let us embark the air conditioning had cooled the wagon, and we had a comfortable journey all the way. We arrived there 55 minutes later and walked the short distance to the ancient site.
We wandered around the ruins of the gymnasium, the palaistra, the Temple of Zeus, the workshop of the man (Pheidias) who sculptured the Zeus statue, the house where Nero stayed when he competed in the Olympics, a bath house with toilets, a guest house complete with thermal bath called Leonidaion, lots of foundation walls for houses and other buildings, and of course the stadium.
Once Ingrid had gone through the arched gateway to the latter, she felt compelled to join in the spirit of the Olympic Games and compete in the 100m sprint race. When word got around that this super fit and well trained athlete would participate all other entrants promptly withdrew. As she was thus the only one at the start she was forthwith declared undisputed victor.
We spent 1½ hours at the site just looking around and marvelling at the scale of it all. Afterwards, as this was included in the entrance fee, we checked out the museum. We enjoyed its air condition, but were also impressed by the exhibits. These reached back to the Neolithic and covered the eras up to Roman times. We saw plenty of pots, vessels, jugs, ceramics, glassware, cauldrons, statues of deities and dignities, figurines etc., but were particularly taken by the bronze helmets and body armour.
We made it back to the station for our return train at 1.30am and got back to Katákolo at 2.20pm. We bought pizza at the supermarket, then motored back in Buddy. When Ingrid got out to step aboard, so did the air in his floor. This, however, did not stop Peter from taking him on a rescue mission to a tender with three occupants whose engine had stopped. They were drifting out to sea, then remembered the oars, so in the end didn’t need Peter’s help at all when they rowed back.
After all this exertion we were both hot and sweaty. When we’d gone ashore in the morning Ingrid had noticed there were no jellyfish. They seemed to have disappeared, so after looking around carefully and not seeing any we braved a shower off Cordelia’s stern. It was bliss!
The wind died in the night, and it was all calm when we got up at 7.00am. It was around 8.30am when we stuck our heads out into the cockpit and prepared to put Buddy back on board. The sky had changed its colour to near black and the clouds had build up. Peter used two straps to secure Buddy after he’d taken out the deflated floor, we tightened up any loose ends and moved the cockpit cushions below.
Soon the first drops of rain fell and we closed the hatches. The wind built up just as Peter was boiling the kettle. He didn’t have time to make the tea as it was blowing 35 knots when the water was hot, and instead went up on deck for a check. Ingrid joined him in the cockpit in time to see our neighbour drag. He was aware of it though, so we didn’t need to take action. By the time he’d re-anchored the wind had increased even more. Thunder and lightning surrounded Cordelia, but luckily never fully reached us. The wind, however, kept coming.
Peter switched on the engine as a precaution (and also to charge the batteries), as we now experienced 55 knots of gusts. We had white water inside the anchorage, and it looked mayhem with big waves outside. One of the boats that had left in the morning had made a sensible decision and returned, and despite the conditions here probably counted his blessings. We monitored our situation and postponed our lunch until the worst had passed.
The wind eased which meant Cordelia was dancing around her anchor again, mainly side-on to the growing swell. Another boat came in having re-directed its original course to seek shelter here, and was soon bobbing up and down like the rest of us. It wasn’t the “rock you to sleep” type of swell either, but more the “bounce you out of bed” variety, and we hoped it would stop before we would have to deal with it in earnest.
After another couple of hours the situation finally improved. We got a new neighbour and noticed his solar panels and frame were wedged inside the cockpit, and his genoa was not fully furled away with a possible tear further up. It looked like he and his two female crew had been through the wars! They re-installed the solar onto the top of their bimini, but left the genoa in the mentioned state. We hoped for them that the forecast would be wrong and the wind would not return.
Peter, in the meantime, attended to Buddy’s floor, cleaned it, glued it, and held it together with clothes pegs. It would need at least 48 hours to cure, and we hoped the repair would work and last for the rest of the season. The weather kept improving, we even got some sunshine, and by the time we had dinner the swell had diminished. The wind, however, was blowing again after we’d eaten, so when it was time for bed we were both on anchor watch instead. One of our neighbours dragged before the anchor held again, but at 11.30pm the wind finally eased enough for us to go to bed and catch some Zs.
It had cooled down with the inclement weather, and it was very pleasant during the night. Still, we didn’t have the best of sleeps as we were both keeping an eye / ear out. Consequently we had a lie-in and Ingrid stayed in bed in the morning and watched three cruise ships arrive, and Peter joined her in the cockpit. Breakfast was not until 8.00am when they’d docked.
It turned out a windy day with comfortable temperatures and we relaxed under the bimini without breaking into a sweat. We didn’t see any more jellyfish, but as we’d spotted one on the previous day we gave the swimming a miss, and postponed it till we reached our next destination.