Chapter One: BACK TO THE HISARONU GULF
We’d had our fair share of action in Marmaris and were keen to find somewhere quieter again. At 8.40am we weighed anchor and were underway. The wind had blown itself out, so we motored all the way to Çiftlik together with a few “early bird” excursion boats. When we arrived it was only the “Rafet Baba” restaurant that showed any interest in us, so we were glad to use their expertise to moor stern-to on the inside of their pontoon.
It was 11.00am when we were attached, with our neighbours due to leave in two hours when we would move into their berth. Time enough for a cup of coffee! Peter filled up the water tanks while Ingrid soaked some clothes, then Ingrid hosed down Cordelia with the fresh water. We enjoyed our coffee, had lunch, Ingrid washed our clothes and hung them out to dry, and soaked another load. Peter plugged in the electricity, and Ingrid washed and hung out the soaked clothes. At 3.00pm our neighbours were finally off and we were moved further along.
We had prime view of the boats coming in, and the boss marinero got busy with his yellow flag which indicated they had available berths.
We walked up to the restaurant to check out their menu and returned in the evening for a very tasty meal. The next morning we were up at 7.30am. We watched YouTube videos and hung about waiting for marineros and other boats to move. Some boats did, but not our neighbours, and there was no sighting of “our” marineros. We had intended to leave for Bozukkale, a three hour journey, but it looked like nearly everyone was heading in that direction while we were still stuck on a rocking pontoon. We had used the compensators which certainly stopped the jerking in the incoming surge, but did see the catamaran opposite us break his line despite his compensators being bigger and stronger, possibly when another catamaran forgot to slip one of its stern lines and was about to make off with the pontoon on its way out.
Our neighbours climbed up the mast, but showed no other sign of action. We had lunch when the flag-waver turned up to lure yet another unsuspecting boat into this “Hotel California” (you can check out but you can never leave). Peter informed him that we needed his help to get out, which he was happy to provide, though he did suggest we could stay another night. We had already contemplated this option, but more or less dismissed it due to the uncomfortable surge and consequent bouncing with its potential complications, and because we believed this would only postpone the problem of getting out rather than solve it. The marinero obliged and lowered our neighbour’s slime line, so we could drive over it once we’d dropped ours and slipped the stern lines, and at 12.45pm we were free and out of Çiftlik.
For the above-mentioned reason we were doubtful about finding any suitable space in Bozukkale, so we turned in the other direction back towards Marmaris. Just before 2.00pm we dropped anchor at Kumlubük. We’d had hardly any wind during the passage and had to motor, but as soon as we turned into the bay we were greeted by 20 knots of “anchor wind”. This is a phenomenon which occurs most times when we’re about to drop the hook. Whatever strength the wind is blowing during the journey, it increases like crazy when approaching the anchorage, only to calm down once the hook has been dropped. Still, it helps setting the anchor! Indeed, the wind eased later on, and we once again enjoyed our surroundings of this stunning location and spent our time looking at them.
It was just about daybreak when Ingrid woke up. We weighed anchor at 7.00am and motored out of scenic Kumlubük in the rising sun.
We had no wind, but made good progress and passed Çiftlik at around 8.15am and Bozukkali at 10.30am. We watched as the scenery changed from wooded slopes to cliffs and barren hillsides, and the landscape started to resemble the rocky islands of the Cyclades. It got busy from there on and all around the cape as people were travelling to Symi, Rhodes and Datça, but we managed to dodge them all. The little breeze we’d had on the nose and had kept us cool completely disappeared and left the sea state smooth and oily. The Coast Guard turned up behind us for a check from a distance, and Peter took in the rod (no fish) in case they wanted a closer look. They didn’t, so we carried on undisturbed.
About 5NM from our final destination we encountered a Westerly Force 4 which allowed us to switch off the engine and unfurl the genoa. Our speed reduced drastically as a result, but as we were in no hurry we didn’t mind and just enjoyed a quiet and gentle ride. Just before 2.00pm we arrived at Kuruca Bükü and dropped the anchor in about 7m. When Ingrid checked on it she could see it nicely dug into sand, but with a few rocks nearby.
Peter also had a swim, then made us çay (= Turkish tea) which we consumed in the cockpit. Ingrid stayed there when we’d finished, though Peter went below to catch up on his YouTube programmes. When a biting fly had become too greedy and bitten off more of Ingrid’s flesh than she could cope with she adjourned below, too.
We spent a peaceful night and both slept well. After breakfast we caught up with admin work, then cleared our heads with a swim during which Ingrid cleaned Cordelia’s waterline. Then she thought she’d check on the chain. Sure enough it was around a couple of rocks, meaning Cordelia was nearly sitting on top of her anchor. Peter started the engine, and Ingrid gave directions from the water, and soon we’d cleared the obstacles and freed the chain.
Chapter Two: BACK AND FORTH AROUND ORHANIYE
We awoke to a sunny and calm morning, and Ingrid could see the chain in the water. It looked clear and we got away at 9.00am without a hitch. We motored along the coast in glassy water, and it was not until an hour or so later when we encountered the gulets running from one side of the Hisaronu Gulf to the other. We took a detour into the fjord-like inlet at Bencik and met with a tranquil and very picturesque scene.
Trees came all the way down to the seafront, some of them were being used for stern-to moorings by the numerous boats. The anchorage itself was too deep for us (ca. 20m), so we turned around past Dişlice Adası. This island could have easily fitted into Thailand in the way it looked, with ragged cliffs stretching straight up from the sea. Only the gulets moored to it reminded us we were in Turkey.
We turned the corner past an ugly hotel compound and made our way to Orhaniye where we dropped our anchor just before midday. After lunch we had a rest and a snooze (Ingrid), and Peter attended to some correspondence. When we went for a swim Ingrid cleaned Cordelia’s waterline from the tube worms.
After a lovely quiet night we prepared Buddy. He needed some attention before he could be launched, and the outboard needed fuel. Peter was keen on visiting the Palmiye restaurant for their Turkish breakfast and pool, so we packed our swimming gear and motored to their pontoon. We were dismayed to find the restaurant closed for the season, so after dumping our rubbish in the car park bins we went to the A101 for pizza and ice-creams plus some other bits and bobs. We returned to Cordelia for admin work and stayed in the cockpit for dinner which we had with the last of our Lemnos wine (boohoo).
Buddy’s floor and sole needed air before we could motor to the Palmiye pontoon. We’d packed our rucksacks with drinks, muesli-bars and Haribos, put on our shoes and started our walk just after 9.00am. This was first along the road and past holiday bungalows and various shops. We found the turn-off to the right that led to a hidden village with a minaret. We were so taken by it we missed our turn-off and had to retrace our steps to rejoin the correct route on the Carian Trail.
When we came across a man attending to numerous beehives we took a detour as we didn’t like the sound of angry bees swarming around. Our path was steep and had fallen down in parts, so it was with difficulty that we followed it up to a dirt track. This was easier terrain to walk on and took us steadily upwards. With the usual huffing and puffing we gained height to the “main road” which was actually just a wider and less overgrown version of our dirt track. A right turn took us back onto another branch of the Carian Trail.
About 1 mile along and 100m up later we arrived at Kastabos (ca. 300m), a site of a sanctuary dedicated to Hemithea, a local deity considered a healing goddess. We looked at the remnants of a temple, health centre and a more distant amphitheatre, and admired the view from the top.
We had our lunch amidst the rubble, then walked back down to the “main road”. Despite this being a longer variation of our route down we were happy to follow it, thus avoiding the steep section on the broken-down path. The road led through woodland, so it was less hot and smelled wonderful. It was also lined with beehives and we trod carefully on the other side of the road, so as not to disturb them or entice them to come after us.
Back down at the village we were united with our route out, and soon we found ourselves back on the tarmacked road. One of the shops along it served us well for ice-creams and a cold latté drink before we headed to “our” Migros for more shopping. After 8 miles we were back on Cordelia at 2.00pm. We rehydrated, and after cooling off with a dip Ingrid had another go at mending the mossie net. Peter, in the meantime, watched the attempts of our neighbours as they were preparing to leave. Their anchor had snagged and they couldn’t get away. Luckily their charter base was at the Palmiye who arranged for a diver to clear them, and soon they were off – to the base!
Another market day, so we stocked up on fruit and vegetables. After lunch Peter decided now would be a good time to check on Buddy. In addition to losing air in his floor he had also sprung a leak in his inflatable keel which impacted his manoeuvrability. While Peter looked for its exact location Ingrid cleaned Buddy’s floor which had needed to come out to get to the keel. Peter found the hole on the seam and put glue on it before Ingrid then wiped the sole. We placed Buddy on the foredeck (exclusive of the cleaned floor) to let the glue set.
The next day we prepared Cordelia with lines and fenders, and motored over to Marti Marina for a pump-out. No queuing or circling around this time as we drove straight in. We were done within 20 minutes, including filling up with diesel. Rather than returning to Orhaniye we motored across to the idyllic Tahtaciogly Bay. At 11.00am we dropped the anchor, sat back and enjoyed the peace with a cup of coffee.
We carried on like this, taking in our beautiful surroundings while Cordelia was turning with the little gusts that came from all directions. Despite a few clouds Ingrid had a swim and a shower off the stern, and Peter also had a dip later on.
We ate on deck, but as the night was drawing in and it cooled down we adjourned afterwards for our evening entertainment. Then Ingrid went back on deck for bed with two blankets, and Peter retired to the cabin with a sleeping bag. We were grateful for the extra blankets as the nights were getting cooler. It dawned sunny, but started to cloud over during the morning with a few sunny spells. We spent time in the cockpit till the rain came. At first it was just a drizzle, but then we had a proper shower, and the sky stayed overcast all day with only a few blue spots. We spent our time below as it was cloudy and damp outside. The surrounding trees, however, had liked the rain and were now giving off a wonderful scent. In addition, the wind died and the sea was calm. In these conditions this place really was a little paradise!
Chapter Three: BACK TO ORHANIYE
The weather turned out lovely again, so we opted to stay an extra day in Tahtaciogly Bay. Unfortunately Ingrid started to feel unwell, so on the next day we headed for civilisation, i.e. Orhaniye, in case she needed a doctor. Once there, she had a rest/doze in the cockpit. Peter kept himself busy and motored in Buddy over to Kale Adası (= Castle Island). From his landing place on the green he found a faint path that took him through a couple of holes in the stone wall right up to the ruined foundations of a castle from the Byzantine era. The reward was a fantastic view over the bay and down to Cordelia.
When he returned he researched Ingrid’s symptoms on the Internet and found the website “doctorsa.com” where one could arrange a video call for a consultation and get a prescription. At 7.20am we arranged an appointment for 7.38am for €15.00. After a 10 minute chat the doctor e-mailed the prescription with instructions where to print it, so to then collect it at a pharmacy. Peter found the bus timetable, and we were soon off on a packed dolmus (suitably translates as “stuffed”) to Marmaris at 10.45am from the market place. We got off near the centre, found a stationery shop for the print-off and after trying three different pharmacies we obtained the necessary medicine. At 12.05pm we were on the dolmus for the journey back.
A couple of days later we were back in Marmaris, this time to go to the public hospital for a second opinion, as by now Ingrid’s face had swollen. The specialists had the weekend off, so we went to A&E. They did a triage with the help of Google Translate, and wrote “yüz sişmeli” (= face swelling) under symptoms which we misread as “yüz siçmeli” (= the brown stuff) when we entered it into the translation app. Then they took Ingrid’s passport as security and handed her a form and a number. When the number was called up on the display along with her name about an hour later she made her way to the examining room where a nice lady asked a few questions, also using Google. She diagnosed an allergy and prescribed an adrenaline injection to “make you feel good”. The young man from reception who we’d addressed for guidance took her to the right room, and we waited outside while the needle was prepared. This did not take too long, and Ingrid was called in to have it administered next to her hip. Job done, we went to pay (TL510), got the passport back, and left.
Two hours later Ingrid felt indeed “good”, and the swelling was hardly noticeable. She was on the way to recovery, and we decided to use the last sunny and warm day (for a while) for a walk. This time we took our sticks, and after a stop at the A101 for drinks and chocolate bars to sustain us we set off at 9.45am.
We walked along the road and then through the woods up to the viewpoint which we had visited on a previous occasion. The sticks made the going a lot easier, and we were there in no time. We continued over the col and headed down to Turgut on the Carian Trail. The village featured cafés, eateries and a “supermarket” which we passed as we turned right at the T-junction. After a few farm houses and a sharp left turn plus an involuntary detour where we found a honey shop we picked up the trail again. It led uphill and around a couple of newly-built houses and took us to a dirt track.
About an hour from the set-off we reached another viewpoint, though it was so obstructed by the matured trees that we could hardly make out what was below. Another ½ hour or so later we came to a junction with a signpost, and we followed the one that pointed to “Hydas”. A well-marked path led through woodland until we got to the first traces of the ruins and its city walls. From thereon the path was faint and the marking was non-existent.
We clambered up the hill through the jungle, and admired the remnants of stone buildings of various forms and sizes until we reached the very top (ca. 240m) of this ancient city which dates back to the Hellenistic period (ca. 3rd century BC).
We ate our lunch and relished the surroundings and stunning views before we turned downhill. Had it not been for MapOut we would have been hopelessly lost in this labyrinth of stones, trees, bushes and undergrowth. Also, luckily for us, the last living inhabitant of this town (a tortoise) pointed us into the right direction, and we scrambled safely back down to the signpost.
This time we chose to follow the one to “Sahil” (= beach), and after a track through the forest and a path along a fence with barbed wire we arrived at the outskirts of Turgut. We found the turn-off to our next goal behind a large rock from where a path took us in about 15 minutes to the Mausoleum of Diagoras, the tomb of a legendary Olympic boxer from Rhodes who won the Olympics in 464 and 460BC.
After a look around we retraced our steps down to the road and into Turgut. We popped to the honey shop which was open, but there was nobody about. Nobody turned up despite a few “hellos” from our side, so in the end Ingrid picked up a priced jar of pine honey and left the money under another jar before we proceeded on our way back to Cordelia.
The next few days were a mixture of rain showers, thunderstorms, heavy downpours and cooler temperatures. We spent the time aboard and planned our return to Greece where we would overwinter again in Leros Marina.
When it cleared out we weighed anchor at 7.45am and motored all the way to Datça. We eventually got some wind, but it was on the nose, so we were glad it didn’t develop into anything bigger. The waves also kept small, and we had a pleasant ride. By 12.20pm the anchor was set and we prepared Buddy.
We went shopping to the BIM and stocked up with Turkish goodies, offloaded them on Cordelia, had a milky coffee/chocolate drink and an eclair on board, then returned to shore. More raiding of Turkish produce in the A101 and Migros supermarkets followed, and we also had two copies of our new crew list printed at a stationery shop. At 4.00pm we saw our Turkish agent who’d already done the groundwork, and while we were waiting for the police (photo ID) served us a cup of Turkish tea. At 5.00pm we were all done and back on board.
We stayed in the anchorage overnight, and after a good night’s sleep were away at 8.00am. Like on the previous day we wore our salopettes, and this time we also put the bimini back to enjoy the warming sunshine. We caught the North-Westerly, Force 5, ½ hour later, and Peter unfurled the genoa for a great and gentle downwind sail to Gialos on Symi Island, Greece.
We’d had a wonderful time in Turkey. The coast and what we’d seen of the land is stunningly beautiful. It is still in vast parts wild and untamed with inaccessible jungles and unclimbed mountains for as far as the eye can see. Ancient artifacts are strewn everywhere, giving witness to the rich and varied history. Ignoring the overrun tourist areas with all its pros and cons, we found the country and its people refreshingly unspoilt and the Turkish hospitality second to none. The Turks we met were incredibly generous and always friendly and pleased to help. Thank you, Turkey, we loved our holiday!