Chapter One: EARLY DAYS
Due to a strict interpretation of Greek law by some zealous bureaucrats we had to interrupt our stay in Greece. We therefore checked out of the country in Symi and headed for Turkey.
On a calm day mid-August we arrived in Datça, dropped the anchor into a large patch of sand, launched Buddy and motored ashore near the fish statue. We found our agent who dealt with all the formalities and who took us to the police station for a photo ID. While he then went off to Customs to get our Transit Log we sorted ourselves out with a Turkish SIM card from TurkCell, withdrew local currency from the ATM, and stocked up our food supplies. Upon our return from our errands we received our papers from the agent and were then legally entitled to sail in Turkey.
We stayed in Datça for a couple of days in order to explore more of it. We also walked out of town on the esplanade and followed the beach, and along the way we saw the (fenced-off) ruins of a church and baths, and further on the remnants of the old harbour of Knidos. The sun was scorching us by then, so we cut inland and walked along the road back into Datça.
We made good use of the well-stocked supermarkets and filled our fridge to the brim with köfte sticks, melon flavoured ice tea, pizza, kefir and runny salted yoghurt (urghh! What a mistake, but we did find a tastier one later on.), before we motored out of Datça.
The engine stayed on all the way, though we did manage to put up the genoa in a South-Westerly Force 3 for the last hour to the double bay of Kuruca Bükü. It was already busy there, still we got a place 40m from where we’d previously anchored in 2023 and dug in the anchor in sand about 9m down. The water was warm and clear when Ingrid checked on the hook, and we settled in.
We’d windsurfed here two years ago, but this time the conditions weren’t to our liking, so we gave it a miss. Peter opted to go snorkelling instead and spotted some decent sized fish and hidey-holes for lobsters. Ingrid, on the contrary, being aboard, detected a little turtle (about frisbee sized). Later on she also went for a swim and put her head under water, but all she saw was a school (or nursery?) of very tiny fish.
We did go ashore to the windsurfing centre on the isthmus. It was too early for anyone to be about, so we carried on along the esplanade past the holiday homes with their green lawns. We made it all the way till the end where a fence stopped us from walking into the wilderness. On the way back we found the Migros for a few top-ups and a couple of ice-creams. Back on board we cooled off with a swim, then watched the weekend sailors and their attempts at anchoring. A little kingfisher came to say hello and sat on Cordelia’s pushpit, but was gone before Peter could come up with the camera. We relaxed, caught up with admin and boat work, and enjoyed our time before we decided to move on.
Chapter Two: INTO THE HISARONU GULF
We motored out of Kuruca Bay in no wind, but found the windline outside of it and unfurled the genoa in under 10 knots from South-West, i.e. astern. We drifted along the wooded coast at about 2 knots, giving us ample time to look at the variety of vessels moored alongside (but mostly stern-to) it. When the wind abandoned us and we struggled to make 1 knot of speed we switched on the engine again. This reduced our arrival time by an hour, and we dropped the hook at 12.00pm at Tahtacioglu Bükü in 8m in mud.
We had lunch, then Ingrid went into the water to check on the anchor. It was too murky to find it, so she took to cleaning Cordelia’s waterline instead. The wind saw this as an opportunity to start gusting from all directions, so Cordelia got blown one way, then the other, and all Ingrid could do was swim after her. The other boats in the anchorage (about 20) all suffered the same fate, but not all at the same time, and not all in the same gusts. They were all dancing to their own rhythm, pointing in different directions, coming close, then moving away from each other again.
Peter also had a swim in the warm water, then Ingrid made dinner, and we ate it in the cockpit amidst a very picturesque setting, the scent of pine trees, and the cicadas serenading us. We adjourned below when it got dark, and when Ingrid went back up into the cockpit to prepare her bed she could hear the sound of a saxophone. Somebody was noodling along to some background music that could hardly be distinguished, and people clapped when it finished, probably as a sign to stop it. The saxophonist was so encouraged, however, that he treated the whole bay to a rendition of “Let it be”, which Ingrid, for one, hoped he would.
More applause followed, resulting in more noodling. Our neighbour’s dog had heard enough, too, and began to bark in protest, and the owls in the forest hooted to prove that even they could be more tuneful than the squeaky caterwauling we were all exposed to. Finally, after one last repeat performance of “Let it be” the saxophonist got the message and stayed quiet. It was 11.00pm and peace ensued, and Ingrid finally fell asleep amidst the chatter of the Turkish voices coming from the neighbouring boats.
The next morning Peter rowed us ashore. Soon we were booted, and just after 9.00am we began our walk. It started off on the flat through the pine wood, but the track soon led uphill. We had a little breeze and some shade from the trees, so the going was rather pleasant. We came to an opening with a few abandoned buildings, and the lay-out made us speculate that we were walking through a former campsite.
The other end of it was gated off with a sign saying that the authorities had closed down whatever this once was, and we had to climb over a hip-high stone wall to get out. A tarmacked track led away from it and took us up to the main road between Datça and Marmaris. We followed it until we reached a viewpoint that showed our anchorage below.
While Peter went off to take pictures Ingrid spoke to the passengers of a car parked there. We didn’t really understand much of each other, except for that they (man, woman, girl) were going to Antalya and that one of the boats down there was ours. Before they drove off they gave us a little bottle of sparkling water each, which was very much appreciated despite us having brought a drink along ourselves. We were refreshed and headed back the way we’d come from, and two hours after we’d set out we were back on Cordelia for tea and a cooling swim.
The ambience of the bay had changed completely while we’d been out, with one 100m large superyacht, six gulets and a few other boats all stern-to to the beach. They’d brought jetskis, ringos and bananas, but luckily they played with them a long way out. Also, neither of them had music or squealing teenagers, so despite their presence we enjoyed a peaceful time.
We prepared fenders and lines, and at 10.00am motored out of the bay. 45 minutes of motoring, looking out for fishing boats and gulets, and watching a seaplane land and take off again, took us to the entrance of Marti Marina where we’d intended to pump out. We could see straight away that we were in for a long wait with about half a dozen boats ahead of us, including two motorboats who would also be there to fill up their huge fuel tanks. We didn’t want to empty ours by hovering around waiting for our turn, so we abandoned the poo operation and Peter motored us over to the anchorage at Orhaniye.
We dropped the hook, had a cup of tea and a few nibbles, and kept an eye on the comings and goings on the other side. At midday we decided to re-anchor as we were very near the fairway, and thought we might as well check what was happening at the marina. This time we were forth in line, but the boats ahead of us weren’t too big, and we agreed to queue up.
Peter kept Cordelia steady whilst circling around when another sailing yacht looked as though they were pushing in ahead of us. Therefore, when we saw the last boat ahead of us leave the station Peter quickly put Cordelia in reverse and lined her up before the potential queue jumper had any chance to take our place. Peter then did a perfect job mooring up from astern and two marineros helped, one handing Ingrid a line for the bow and the other taking our stern line. Ingrid got off and went straight to reception expecting to just pay for the flat rate, while Peter prepared for the pump out. However, the young lad in the office informed her that he needed a form, so she had to return to Cordelia where Peter was in the process of filling it in. Once completed, Ingrid trundled off with it to reception and was finally able to pay.
We managed to get off the pontoon just fine, Ingrid lifted the fenders on board as they were dangling in the water (the pontoon was very low), and by then we were back at the anchorage. After a little cruise around we found a suitable space in about 11m and dropped the hook and chain into the muddy seabed. The whole enterprise had taken nearly 1½ hours!
After a night with a few mossie bites we put Buddy in the water. At the pier opposite the Palmiye Hotel and Restaurant we lifted him onto the beach, turned right on the road which was quite busy, and found the path further up on the left. In typical Turkish fashion it was on the rough side and led up steeply to a viewpoint. Looking around we agreed the ascent of about 100m had been worth the effort, as we were indeed treated to a fantastic view down to the bay.
For the way down Peter equipped us with half a tree each that he found lying around and which now, broken into an appropriate size, served as our walking sticks. They helped us safely back to the road where we left them behind to be used again (or not) by other desperate fellow hikers on their way up. We made it back down to the flat where we raided the supermarket for a cold drink and ice-creams which we devoured on the spot.
On Saturday it was market day, so we were on land just after 9.00am and went to the site. The market didn’t feature many stalls, but this didn’t matter to us as we were only interested in the fruit and vegetable one. We got a lot of the fresh produce for a very reasonable price, then went to the Migros supermarket to cool off with ice-creams.
The next day we grabbed our shoes, packed a drink and set off on a walk to Orhaniye village. We had a little bit of a breeze which helped in the heat along the dusty brick-weaved road. The scene was very rural with a few houses set in the shades of olive trees and bougainvillea, with chicken, cats and dogs lazying around and with bleating and braying in the near distance.
We came to what we assumed to be the village centre, there being a mosque and a fountain next to some derelict houses. We took the long way round the settlement by crossing over a bridge, then carrying on along the road with more houses which were soon replaced by pine, fig and carob trees. Further on, we passed a cemetery with white marble gravestones that cladded the brick sarcophogi, then more gated houses, until we finally emerged near the “Palmiye”. Before we returned to Cordelia we popped into the Migros for bread, drinks and ice-creams. The wind had picked up by then as forecast, and we had quite a bumpy ride home. The Coast Guard was cruising around when we arrived, so we quickly got on board. They were circling around Cordelia and took pictures, then moved on to other boats in the anchorage to repeat the process, and didn’t bother us any further.
We had previously enjoyed iced lattés at the “Palmiye” restaurant where we’d moored up Buddy during our outings. Mehmet, the proprietor, had offered us the use of the swimming pool, confirmation of a pump out, any help we may need, and the menu. We took him up on his offer a few days later, packed our rucksacks with swimming gear, pumped up Buddy’s floor (it was still losing air from the seam despite multiple repairs), and motored to the “Palmiye”. We were there for a Turkish breakfast with Turkish tea and a bottle of water. We sat on a large table for four, which soon filled up with cucumber, olives, tomatoes, peppers, rocket salad, sausages, an omelette stuffed with peppers and mushrooms, cheese, honey, strawberry jam, marmalade, Nutella, butter, bread and slices of watermelon. It only just fitted all on!
The accompanying tea was a little bit bitter, scented but not perfumed, and we sweetened it with the honey. It went down a treat and we got a top-up when the glass it was served in was empty. We liked it so much that we ended up buying four big bags of bergamot Turkish tea before we left Turkey. The food was also delicious, and despite there being a lot of it we managed to eat all but a few morsels. We were ready to lie down and digest the experience (physically and mentally), so headed for the pool.
We were the only ones there and chose two sunbeds in the shade of an enormous parasol. A little breeze found its way around the corner, and it was all very pleasant and relaxing. After an extensive rest we tested the water in the pool. It was cooler than the sea and refreshing, and we liked it. So did the cat that drank it and the little frog that swam in it.
Two small girls were about to join us, but only jumped in once their mother had netted the frog and re-homed it in the adjacent bushes. We were certain it’d be back the next day! We then had another rest while the girls frolicked. After a while two older girls joined them, which we took as a sign to move on. So we both had a shower with as much warm fresh water as we liked in their facilities block while the kids were getting more and more excited (and noisy!).
We left them behind to see Mehmet who’d told us earlier that the honey we’d consumed came from a local man and his brother, i.e. their bees. Ingrid asked if they sold it in a shop as we’d be interested in buying some, but no, they only sold privately. Mehmet, however, had said he would call them and see if they could bring one to his restaurant. Unfortunately he had been unable to contact them, but should know by 4.00pm. So we returned to Cordelia and Peter WhatsApped Mehmet at that time who confirmed that the honey had been delivered. We jumped into Buddy, collected a jar of about 1kg, and returned happy. We got the local honey after all!
We had breakfast and prepared Cordelia for departure. The forecast was for the wind to pick up to around 25 knots later on, and we were hoping for a nice tack to Datça. We weighed anchor at 8.20am in no wind and motored out of Orhaniye. When we reached the gulf we were met with a Northerly Force 4-5, so we quickly set sails, but cautiously put a reef in both. We had a lovely time for about 20 minutes when the wind decided it had better places to go to, and promptly left us. The genoa was particularly unhappy about this, so we furled it away.
The wind changed from North to South, Force 2, as we motorsailed along for the next couple of hours, then it returned with a vengeance from the West, Force 5-6. We had just put up the genoa and stopped the engine when a gulet bore down on us. AIS predicted a collision in 3 minutes, still the gulet was coming for our Cordelia, intend on ramming her. Peter hove to so the gulet could pass to one side, only it didn’t and kept chasing us. 1 minute to impact! Peter started the engine and ran away in a circle that would ensure we were coming out behind it. This did the trick, and we could finally concentrate on sailing once again.
With the wind on the nose we altered course towards Symi, sailing 40° on the wind, then tacked back towards Turkey. We put a second reef in the genoa when the wind increased to a Force 7. We made some headway, but the progress over ground was slow and our ETA moved back further and further. We reached the Bay of Datça when the wind turned up another notch to Force 8. Cordelia wasn’t enjoying it and was heeling heavily.
Instead of putting in another reef in the mainsail and carrying on tacking we agreed to abandon sailing and motor the last 6NM to Datça. Cordelia wasn’t too impressed with our choice as she fought and slammed head-on through the waves and gusts, but at least this would only last for about one hour instead of three. Peter upped the revs from 1,500rpm to 1,800rpm to combat the conditions, and we dropped the anchor at 2.00pm after one last bouncy stint with water coming over the sprayhood.
A cup of tea and a bite to eat soon calmed our nerves, so did a check on the anchor. We relaxed further with a snifter of ouzo while we watched a few windsurfers. We admired their determination as the conditions were gnarly with big lulls followed by bigger gusts. Despite there being a windsurfing centre Datça was definitely a long way down on the list for best windsurfing destinations.
Chapter Three: GÖKOVA GULF
When the wind subsided a couple of days later we upped anchor and left Datça.
We motored along quite happily until Peter had a look at the fuel gauge. “How many hours have we done under engine since we last put in some diesel?” he asked. Turned out it was 55 (out of an absolute maximum of 60 from a very full tank), and we were very low on fuel. We hoped for some wind to help us along, but there just wasn’t enough of it and any gusts were short-lived.
This did make it easier to go past the various capes around the Datça peninsula, and we had calm seas at the lighthouses and at Knidos. We weighed our options and considered pulling in somewhere to try to get diesel, but any anchorages we found were remote with not a petrol station anywhere near them. We cut some corners where it was safe to shorten the mileage, and after a total of six hours motoring we made it to Mersincek. We hoped to stay there till we got enough wind to take us to Ören where we could fill up.
We had a swim and checked on the anchor, and Peter made us Turkish tea, both of which were nicely refreshing. Before we had left in the morning we had found red water in the bilges, and Peter had traced it back to the anti-freeze that was stowed under our bed. Now was the time to attend to it. The bed came up, we removed the leaking container, then Ingrid made up the bed again. Next came the bilges, as they were all contaminated. It took her a good hour to soak up the liquid and wipe it all clean before the saloon was presentable again. Peter in the meantime had researched more options relating to our fuel predicament, and had added Kairos Marina to the list. He had calculated we had about 3 litres left in the tank, at the most, and as Kairos was closer than Ören this seemed a viable solution.
While all this work had been going on we got a light breeze which brought some awkward swell into the anchorage. We were not looking forward to the night, expecting it to be rather rolly and uncomfortable. This turned out to be true as we were bouncing up and down all night. The wind did turn offshore which resulted in the swell slamming on Cordelia’s back, the noise resembling that of a shooting range. Suffice to say that we didn’t sleep too well.
On the next morning Ingrid was up at dawn and took pictures of the red sky. We were waiting for the wind, so we could ghost up the coast to Kairos Marina and refuel. Peter sent them a WhatsApp requiring whether that was possible. While we anticipated their reply Peter remarked that we could ask our neighbour super-gulet “Nevra Queen” if they had any spare diesel. Their punters were swimming in the sea and we could hear them speak English, so we had reason to believe that some of the staff would, too.
Giving our rather dire situation Ingrid was easily swayed to give it a go, so we launched Buddy, and after some delay Peter rowed us over with our canister. “Do you have any diesel we can buy off you?” he asked a member of staff who’d been alerted to our presence by one of their guests Ingrid had greeted loudly upon our arrival. He went off to ask his captain, then came back to take our 20L canister. While we waited for his return Peter held us in position in the increasing swell, and we began to wonder if we’d ever see our canister, with or without contents, again.
It was over ½ hour later before the man re-emerged together with his captain and some colleagues (who probably were all keen on seeing those numpties who’d run out of fuel) and, more importantly, our can full of diesel. They had to syphon it off their tank which had taken all this time, he explained. When we asked how much they wanted for it the captain waved his hand and shook his head. “Nothing”, translated the crew member (although we’d perfectly understood the international sign language), “it’s free”. “Are you sure? We can pay you, we have Euros!” Well, they didn’t want any money, they were just being very kind. Ingrid was nearly moved to tears (still now, writing it down) by their generosity, so we thanked them profoundly and rowed back to Cordelia to give her engine the juice it needed to keep us going. 20 litres of diesel meant 8 hours of motoring – we were very happy!
We could go nearly anywhere now, and as we still hadn’t received a reply from Kairos, we chose Gökagac Koyu from where we would continue to Ören on a later day. Our neighbours left while we finished our cups of coffee and biscuits after we’d put Buddy back on deck. Just before 11.00am we followed suit.
We were pleasantly surprised to find the forecast had been wrong again, as we were met with 25 knots of wind outside instead of the predicted 15 knots. Both mainsail and genoa were hoisted, putting in a reef soon afterwards, and with the North-West wind from abeam we averaged over 6 knots during the first hour and just under it during the next.
We then had to alter course and now had the wind from astern. It had changed to a Westerly Force 4-5 and we tried to sail wing on wing, but the genoa lost its shape in the swell, and with no whisker pole to hold it in position we put it away before it flogged itself to death.
For the next three hours we enjoyed a magnificent ride under the mainsail alone, still with one reef. We averaged about 5 knots per hour, the waves were on the transom, any other boats were miles away, and the scenery was beautiful. We even got our old place from 2023 at the anchorage of Gökagac Koyu despite there being quite a few boats there already, and at 4.30pm were nicely dug into the sandy bottom about 6m down. It was lovely and calm when we went to bed. We felt warm outside as well as inside, the latter courtesy of the “Nevra Queen” crew’s incredible kindness – thank you so very much!
We slept well and didn’t get up until 7.00am. After breakfast “Ali Baba” came by in his boat and sold us a Turkish round loaf of bread which fed us during the day and for breakfast on the next. While Peter kept himself busy below Ingrid relaxed in the cockpit. She didn’t even want to look at Cordelia’s underside or clean her, but just laid back and enjoyed the peaceful surroundings.
Another quiet night followed with only a few boats in the anchorage. In the morning , however, the gulets started to return in force. We left them to it, gave Buddy’s floor some air, and Peter rowed us ashore for a walk. There was no round tour we could do, so we turned left and followed the dirt track. It was on the flat before it cut inland and over to the next bay. Then it began to incline gradually until we came to a plateau. There the track was very wide, and we were exposed to full sunshine. We passed a few empty beehives while we were sweating buckets, then reached a T-junction. We decided we’d gone far enough through this jungle with only cicadas accompanying us, so we retraced our steps back to Buddy.
After a drink and a brief rest we carried on towards the other side of the bay, and found “Gulet Town”. The coastline had been taken over and was full of stern-to moorers with their yellow floating ropes marking off each boat’s territory. We took the firebreak clearing to climb up the hill above, and found a cairn on the top indicating a viewpoint. After some pictures and a good look around we scrambled back down and made it back to Buddy and from there to Cordelia.
Peter then had another go at mending Buddy’s floor, so on the next morning there wasn’t much to prepare for departure other than wiping Cordelia with the moisture from the night. After some more cleaning we upped anchor at 8.45am.
The sea was flat and with no wind to speak of we motored to Ören Marina. There we finally topped up the fuel tank and pumped out the black water tank. As we were able to go in without waiting and circling around we were away again after 20 minutes, and within 1½ hours we arrived at Akbük.
The anchor dug in nicely, so we had lunch and a rest with çay (Turkish tea) before Ingrid jumped into the water to check on it. It sat in sand in about 5.5m with only the hoop still visible – perfect! On the way back onboard Ingrid noticed the state of Cordelia’s underwater hull. What a mess! So Ingrid cleaned down as far as she could reach to relieve Cordelia of the slime and growth, but the underside was left filthy. Something for tomorrow’s job sheet!
We got ourselves ready for underwater work. Peter looked after the propeller and rudder, and Ingrid scraped off the forest on Cordelia’s hull. Ingrid was going for the keel when her calf began to cramp up, so she called it a day. She showered off the stern and finished right on time for çay and biscuits.
We weighed anchor at 8.25am and motored out of Akbük in hardly any wind. Cordelia was going well with her clean hull, and 1½ hours later we dropped our anchor off Ören in 13.5m depth. We launched Buddy, took our rubbish, and Peter rowed us to a little slipway next to an iron-looking fence. We dragged Buddy onto the beach and tied him on, then went to the BIM and Migros, depositing our garbage in the bins along the esplanade.
Ören was still how we remembered it, with bars and restaurants along the seafront with a narrow(ish) strip of beach. There were plenty of holiday makers around enjoying the sunshine, whereas we took pleasure in the air-conditioned supermarkets. We stocked up our supplies, carried them back, had lunch on board, dug out the anchor from the concrete-like mud, and were underway at 12.45pm.
The wind had shifted from West to South-West, but was still only wafting around 5 knots. This changed after about an hour when it increased, and we were able to motorsail on the genoa. Ingrid was below doing the log when Peter wanted to put in a reef. The wind had now picked up enough for the engine to be turned off, and we had a bracing sail with the reefed genoa in a Force 6.
Just before 3.00pm we dropped the anchor into mud in Gökagac Koyu, one of our favourite anchorages in the region, had çay, and noticed we were rather close to our neighbours. It was silly squeezing in like that, given the abundant space in the anchorage, so we weighed anchor, cleared off the mud and re-anchored further back. It was Peter’s turn to check on it, and it turned out fine once more.
The night was very damp and Ingrid had to wipe Cordelia dry before we could weigh anchor at 8.00am. We motored along the coast in no wind, and when it picked up to a Westerly Force 3-4 it was right on the nose. In the hazy sunshine we passed some stunning scenery with beautiful bays, cliffs and forested slopes all the way down to the sea. Near Kairos Marina we encountered some traffic and had to watch out for the incoming and outgoing vessels. We also had to struggle through opposing current for a while, but after nearly 5½ hours we arrived safely at Mersincik, and dropped the anchor in 5m in sand between large seagrass patches.
Later the wind changed direction and swirled Cordelia around, so that the anchor alarm went off. We weren’t dragging and Peter just reset the alarm. When the wind finally settled for a Southerly we began to relax and enjoyed the changed, and this time swell-free, conditions.