GREECE - Heading Home

For my faithful followers, I apologise for the delay in posting the final blog for the season.  As you will read further below, the last week of our time in Greece was rather frantic and then the weeks that followed very busy, so that it has taken me up until almost Christmas to close the blog of Bisou for the 2015 season.

So, let’s head back to Bungalow Bay where we had installed ourselves for a few days to begin dismantling Bisou.  The weather was kind to us as we washed, dried and put away our sails – the halyards and sheets came down next and all was going smoothly.  With a date at Cleopatra Marina in Preveza already set to haul Bisou, we headed up to Levkas Harbour to have some warranty work done on the rigging.  In usual Greek fashion, nothing happens quickly, but by early afternoon on the Tuesday, we were all set to head north to Preveza through the Levkas canal bridge…only to discover that it was broken!  Now let me explain.  The Levkas canal is a fairly narrow channel that connects the island of Levkas with the mainland – there is one bridge which is made up of an old barge and a lever arm bridge.  The lever arm bridge is just wide enough for most mono-hulled boats while the whole barge and lever arm will swing open most of the time for all the boat traffic in the summer (this opens the canal to ¾ of its width which is plenty for most boats – nothing huge like cruise ships or anything).  It seems that the barge part of the bridge was broken but the lever arm part was still working.  Catamarans were being forced to round the island of Levkas (about 60 nautical miles versus the 7 or so nautical miles through the canal) to reach Preveza.  Cursing, but pleased that we had not left things until the last minute, we decided to head south around the island and complete the journey in two hops – because we had already taken down all the sails and soft rigging, we would have to motor the whole way which was frustrating but what could we do!  Off we set, but about one hour into the journey, the starboard engine started acting up, rapidly losing power when we tried to engage the forward gear.  We stopped in the middle of the inland waterway (just east of Nidri) to try and work out what was going on.  Tad even jumped into the water to take a look to see if we had hooked some rope or fishing line.  Realising that there was no way we were going to risk motoring some 60nm on one engine with no sails to back us up, we limped back to Levkas harbour with our port engine and called up the people who had completed the 500 hour service just a couple of weeks before.

By this time it was too late for the mechanics to come to the boat so we were scheduled for “first thing” (translated to “about 10:30am”) the next morning. Much as we hate to be in a harbour or marina overnight, we were forced to stay over this time in order to get the engine fixed.

The next morning (Wednesday by this time) the mechanics arrived and had a quick look at the starboard engine – finding nothing out of the ordinary they had us start the engine.  Still nothing noticeable so we put her into gear (a little challenging since we were tied to the harbour wall) and tried revving the engine.  Still nothing!  This went on for some time with no noticeable problem or change in power – typical!  After a frustrating couple of hours looking at every possible thing (don’t ask me to name all the bits and pieces that were investigated!) the mechanics shook their heads and said that we should just head out and if there was a problem to call them and they would come and ‘rescue’ us on their RIB (rigid inflatable boat) purpose-built for such emergencies.

By this time it was noon and we knew we had to get going – as we headed out of the harbour Tad suggested that we motor up to the bridge to see if it was fixed yet.  As we approached the bridge I hailed the bridge operator on the VHF radio to ask if the ‘large bridge’ was opening. The operator said that it was still broken but asked how wide we were – I replied that our beam was 7.4m and he said that the gap served by the lever arm bridge was 9m.  Tad and I looked at each other and wondered if we should chance it?  There was little to no wind, no current and the distance we would have to cover was about 50m.  The catch was that as there was construction being carried out on the north side of the canal there was a barge on the port side, which meant that before we were through the bridge, we would have to veer to starboard right at the end.  We decided that it was worth taking a shot at, and Tad said that we would wait and go last so that if he had to back out at the last moment we would have room to do so.

                                       

                                                      The Levkas Canal (big bridge open)

I don’t think my heart has ever beat as hard or as fast as it did on our approach to the gap – with barely 800mm (32 inches) on either side of Bisou, Tad must have had nerves of steel to guide us through.  We did have some small fenders out to ‘protect’ us but they wouldn’t have done much good against the concrete on one side and the steel on the other!  We glided into the channel and were moving beautifully until Tad started to turn, I ran to the aft port side to watch our rear end against the concreted and with an audience of several car drivers holding their breath pushed hard against the wall to keep us off, just missing our aft sugar scoop by millimetres!  We were through!  Our gutsiness paid off!  We arrived at the marina an hour later still on a high from the thrill of squeezing through the gap of the Levkas canal!  Don’t ever ask me to do that again.

                                      

The Levkas Canal with the lever arm bridge open just to the right hand side of the photo   (N.B. This was NOT taken while we were squeezing through but an earlier time when the big bridge was open!)

   

The excitement was not over, however, as those who have ‘parked’ in Cleopatra Marina know, there is a considerable current in the water and not a great deal of space in which to manoeuver into your berth.  Fortunately, the marinero is there with his RIB (yes, another high powered inflatable dinghy) to push your back or front end and help you slide in without hitting anything.  Tad is the world’s best driver when it comes to Bisou, and before long we were safely tied up in our berth at the marina.  We needed a stiff drink after that!

The next day was spent putting more things away on the inside of the boat as well as taking down the canvas ‘clears’ around the cockpit.  It was a busy day but we had a fun dinner at a local taverna with friends that night as our reward.

Friday morning, on schedule, Bisou was lifted and trailored to her wintering spot in the boatyard.  From the time she was parked until we departed from Preveza on Sunday afternoon, we worked like slaves to get her cleaned, packed up and ready for a long rest over winter.  We were exhausted by the time we got on the bus to Athens (a 6 hour drive) and checked into our hotel at the airport.  A good night’s sleep saw us walk across to the airport the next morning and head home via Singapore.

Hopefully Bisou is keeping dry and clean with her custom cover made in Tunisia and everything packed away neatly.  We don’t have the wonderful ‘guardianage’ service that we enjoyed from Mick and Jo in Hammamet last year, but we hope that by being out of the water and in a secure boat yard everything will be okay.

Our plan is to head back early May to drop off a load of gear and then head to the USA to see Patrick (the youngest son) graduate from University and visit family.  We’ll be back in Greece by the end of May to do some necessary work on the boat (anti-fouling, adding a couple of cleats, etc.) and then hopefully launch by the beginning of June to set sail.  Of course we will be watching to see how things pan out in Turkey but the Aegean is definitely in the plans for next year.

In the meantime, your blogger is taking a break while enjoying summer back in Shoal Bay, Australia!  We are not sitting around though as we have work to do on the house…no rest of the wicked!  Thank you for following the adventures of Tad and Robin on Bisou and we look forward to your readership again in 2016.

GREECE - Winding down

With only three weeks left until we fly back to Australia, we were determined to slow down before the final week or so of packing up the boat.  Since we plan to head east to the Aegean next season, we wanted to feel like we had ‘done’ the Ionian thoroughly (is that even possible?).  We stayed in Katelios for a couple of days and then motor-sailed north to Ithaca where we rediscovered what is probably now our favourite anchorage – Pera Pighadi.  Why is it a favourite? Surrounded by fairly high hills and cliffs, the water is crystal clear and there is an abundance of fish life as well as sea stars, sea urchins, sponges, etc.  There are a couple of beaches (pebble, admittedly, but at least a place to go ashore if one wants to) and it’s rarely crowded.  The disadvantages are that there can be a swell from the east as the fast ferries from Patras to Italy go past in the night, and the depths are such that you have to anchor in 8m or more of water.  There is also a scarcity of clear patches in which to get a good ‘grab’ with your anchor so first in is definitely best anchored!  This time around, we were the first ones in so we were able to secure a great spot. The winds were slight and the ferries did not bother us so it was with great regret that we left the next day and moved on.  We stopped briefly at Vathi, the main town on the island, to drop off rubbish and pick up a few grocery items (including some wonderful baklava from the local bakery – I have become quite addicted and don’t know what I will do when I get back to Australia!  Perhaps learn to make it myself??).  Our anchorage that night was in Ay Nikolaos in the north end of Ithaca and we were subjected to some fairly strong gusts until sunset but again, only a couple of other boats were there with us.

                                         

The crystal-clear water of Pera Pighades on the island of Ithaca

Beautiful sea life on the ocean floor

One thing we have noticed as the ‘season’ draws to a close and the weather cools, there seem to be a lot more Scandinavian boats around.  As September nears its end, many of the British yachts and their occupants are headed to Levkas and Preveza to haul their boats or close them up for winter.  The last low-cost/charter flights (EasyJet, RyanAir, etc.) stop flying from the regional airports such as Preveza and Corfu at the beginning of October, and so for the POHMS the season is over.  Apparently, though, this is when the Scandinavians either return or come over to begin their season – they don’t like the crowds and heat of July/August and prefer to sail from September to November and from March to May.

Being a solar worshipper and a ‘heat-seeking missile’ (Tad’s words), I can safely say that I don’t think I will be cruising past mid October unless I am a long way south.  Even last year in Tunisia, we found that although the water was still warm and the days comfortable in the mid-twenties Celcius, the nights were definitely cooler. Here, that much further north, we have started to get cooler winds, and some heavy-duty rainstorms.

More spectacular sunsets with the coming of autumn

This week alone, we had two separate occasions where we had high winds and thunderstorms with heavy rainfalls.  Recently, we had two straight days of rain.  It sounds crazy to be complaining about two days of rain, but when you haven’t seen an overcast sky for several months, it feels strange!

So with barely a week to go before we fly back to Australia, we have settled ourselves back in “Bungalow Bay” about 2 hours’ motoring from Bisou’s winter home, and will begin to dismantle the boat.

At this stage our plan is still to head to Turkey next year, but who knows what will happen in the meantime?  There is so much unrest and so many problems in both Turkey and Greece at this point in time that things can change.  We will be starting our season later next year as we have family commitments until mid-May, but we hope to continue until mid-October next year so we’ll still get our 5-6 months of sailing in.

GREECE - Heading south to the Peloponnese PART 4

We had an afternoon and night at a little town called Petadhilion the next day – we did not go ashore both because the wind was strong and also there was nothing special to see.  We had read a few notes about it, and looking through the binoculars had noticed very few people about and so just had a swim and dinner and went to bed.

It was a short hop to Kalamata the following morning, and we arrived at the marina shortly before noon.  We were guided to a berth by ‘Thomas’ the security guard, who also assisted us in mooring the boat.  Fortunately there was only a light breeze and we were quickly installed into our berth.  For the first time since Albania, we had a ‘proper’ mooring meaning that we had ‘lazy lines’ forward and we tied up with our own lines at the stern.  The quay that we were moored to was also of a reasonable height so that our simple wooden passerelle (gangplank) worked wonderfully.  We had noticed the humidity slowly increasing as we headed north towards Kalamata and the clouds were also gathering – it was a sweaty day!  Tad and I grabbed the relevant papers and walked to the marina office to check in – we also decided to ‘check in’ with the Port Police (even though they wouldn’t have known if we had or not) which made everything take that much longer (you wouldn’t know that a stamp in a booklet could be so complicated or take so much time!).  We had a bite to eat back at the boat and then Tad decided to have a siesta on Bisou while I went for a walk to a nearby beach for a swim.

Bisou at the marina in Kalamata

Later in the afternoon, we walked through the port-side of town to find a car rental agency so that we could visit Sparta and Mystra the next day.  Kalamata is not a ‘pretty’ town and it is difficult to see why people live there.  Aside from the fact that the town is surrounded by mountains to the back of it, and fronts the vast Gulf of Messinia, which in itself is rather picturesque, the city seems very dull.  Of course the famous Kalamata olives are grown in this area and the hillsides and valleys both to the west and east of the city are filled with olive groves.  In fact, when we drove to Sparta the next day, there were olive trees practically to the tree line in the mountains the entire way.  The harbour of Kalamata (not the marina where we were berthed) is large and deep and apparently can handle cargo ships although I am not sure what would be shipped from here that could not go via Athens/Piraeus or Patras which have much larger facilities.

We had a light dinner at a local tavern and an early night as we wanted to be on the road in good time the next day.

Armed with my faithful smartphone and Maps application, as well as a Kalamata city map and another of the Peloponnese, we set off the next morning, bright and early to avoid the traffic.  We skirted the city and headed east towards the mountains and very quickly started our climb – the road was decent in that it was well-paved and wide enough for two cars to pass comfortably, but the hairpin turns up and down the mountainsides were enough to have me looking straight ahead while Tad drove slowly to keep me happy!  Luckily, due to the early hour of the day, we encountered very little oncoming traffic, and thankfully no large buses or trucks at any of the hairpin turns, and after about a 90 minute drive, arrived in modern Sparta. 

There are few remains of the ancient city and if it were not for my Lonely Planet guide I am not sure we would have found them.  The pathway was signposted once you were within 400m of the site, but otherwise there was no indication of where to go.  Modern Sparta also has an olive museum which we did not have time to visit,  but apparently it is very good and informative!  We did find our way to ancient Sparta and probably the most impressive part of the site is the partially excavated amphitheatre.  There was a crew of maintenance people on site using weed-eaters to cut the grass and someone raking/sweeping the cuttings.  There were also some people working on the site with a crane hoisting some of the blocks of the ancient walls back into place and doing restoration work, otherwise we were the only visitors.  Disappointingly, there were no placards or any kind of information as to what we could see and my Lonely Planet guide was equally uninformative.  Needless to say, we didn’t spend long here.  It’s hard to believe that this ancient site hasn’t been further excavated or better presented.

Tad on the 'seats' of the ancient amphitheatre in Sparta

View from the top of the ancient amphitheatre looking towards modern Sparta

From here, it was a short 10 minute drive to Mystra, a UNESCO Heritage-Listed site – we hadn’t read much about it and didn’t really know what to expect other than the fact that there was a fortress, upper town and lower town and that we would be doing a fair bit of walking and climbing.  We drove to the gate of the upper town and began our exploration here – the purchase of a EUR 5 ticket allows entry to the entire area – and we hiked up to the fortress.  Not much remains here but the views were spectacular (they always are from these fortresses!) and we could see over the valley to modern Sparta.  The fortress was built in the 13^th century by a Frankish ruler and then occupied and improved over the centuries by Byzantine and then Ottoman rulers.  Back down to the upper town, we discovered that the majority of the buildings had been built by a despotic ruler in the 14^th century, and little of them remained.  The area had been successively raided and burned by the Russians and then the Albanians in the 18^th century although somehow many of the churches and chapels had either been spared or restored (we never discovered which).  Here, the placards were informative but not specific and my Lonely Planet Guide was even less so sadly.  For a heritage-listed place one would have thought that a little more information was warranted.  One of the main attractions of the upper town was the despot’s Palace building, which unfortunately, is being restored and therefore closed to visitors.

The fortress of Mystra with modern Sparta in the background

One of the many churches of the Upper Town

We walked back to the car and drove down to the lower town and spent the next two hours alternatively walking and climbing around the town which once housed up to 40,000 people but of which only a handful of chapels, churches and monasteries remain.  Apparently the town, under the despotic rule of a Byzantine Emperor’s son, became a centre of learning and the arts. It was prolific in the production of illuminated manuscripts, which were created by the monks in the monasteries, as well as beautiful icons and carvings in the churches and chapels.  It was interesting but by the end Tad was ‘chapelled out’ and we were both tired and hot.  We still had a drive back to Kalamata ahead of us as well.  The rain and winds that had been predicted didn’t reach us in Mystra and we had an uneventful drive back to Kalamata and returned the car before walking back to Bisou. 

Taking a break at one of the many monasteries

A 14th century icon at Mystra

Part of the road between Kalamata and Sparta/Mystra

The next morning, having paid for the use of 1000L of water (which we did not need), we decided to wash down the boat before leaving.  Once Bisou was back to her sparkling self, we headed out into the bay and for our anchorage back off Zanga Beach at Koroni.   The winds were light but there was a considerable leftover swell from the south as we motored towards Koroni and for the last couple of miles we were able to use the rising wind with our genoa, but within a short time of anchoring the southwesterlies picked up and before an hour had gone by we were sitting in 25 knots of westerly wind! It continued to increase throughout the day and by 4pm was blowing steadily at 30 knots with gusts of 35 knots.  As predicted, it did ease off at night allowing us a good night’s sleep although it didn’t stop blowing.

The weather forecast was not favourable for a westerly route the next day, so we had decided to remain where we were.  We were joined by a couple of other boats, including a Belgian man with whom we had made acquaintance back in Pylos.  We had been visiting the same anchorages for close to two weeks when Tad finally went over to his boat in the bay at Pylos to chat with him – the encounter was a little awkward as Vince (the Belgian) was a naturist and a solo sailor and obviously was not used to being approached by random cruisers.  Tad is such a congenial person and he managed to have a short chat with Vince and at least discover his name and where he was headed.  As it turned out, he followed us night after night all the way to Kalamata where we finally invited him over to our boat for a drink.  He was quite an interesting man in that he had bought his boat 30 years previously with the purpose of racing it in Belgium.  Three years ago he started cruising full time, and has been sailing through the Mediterranean since then.  I was impressed that he manages to sail through the kinds of conditions and places on his own, but what is more remarkable than a solo sailor (of which there are plenty) is the fact that he is literally ‘single-handed’!  By that I mean that his left arm is completely withered and useless and hangs limply by his side.  Vince is probably in his sixties, and obviously knows his boat inside out as well as having made adaptations to enable him to handle her on his own, but when he came into Kalamata marina and threw his lines out the stern of his boat for ‘Thomas’ to tie up, poor Thomas did not know what to do!  He asked Vince if he needed assistance with the ‘lazy lines’ (which I can attest are not easy to manage for someone with two hands and arms!) to which Vince replied “No thank you”.  Tad stood by ready to help as well and I just stared in amazement.  We take so much for granted having two strong arms and two strong legs sometimes, that it takes watching a man like that move around his boat and berth in a marina to make me feel so grateful!

Anyway, he showed up that afternoon in Koroni after having left Kalamata the day we went to Sparta, saying he was headed south and then east, but we suppose that the weather came up and he was forced over to the west side of the Gulf for protection from the strong prevailing winds.

The wind blew strongly (steady 30-35knots with gusts of 40 knots) for the next day and finally, after two days and two nights we were able to leave at the crack of dawn on the third morning and make our way back to Pylos in one long hop.  We had an afternoon and overnight in our ‘old’ anchorage, and then had another early start the next morning for another long haul to Katakolon, basically retracing our steps.  We had hoped to be able to cross to Keri on Zykanthos again, but the winds were against us (we would have ended up being somewhat stuck there for several days due to the contrary wind) so we set out for Katelios on Cephalonia, and after arriving here (for the fourth time this summer!) we called a halt for a couple of days.

GREECE - Heading south to the Peloponnese PART 3

Today the winds favoured us and we were able to sail much of the 30nm journey – what a pleasure it is to have no engine noise and just the rustle of the sails. The only disadvantage to sailing with both the main and genoa raised is that many of the solar panels are covered and so our ability to generate electricity is hampered somewhat.  It wasn’t a problem, however, as we did have to motor at the end to reach our anchorage – this was sufficient to top up the battery to 100%.

Pylos is a small town that sits at the south end of a large bay, Ormos Navarino, the site of a famous sea battle that was part of the Greek War of Independence.  The bay is still littered with shipwrecks although since the ships were mostly wooden, not much remains.  We anchored at the north end of the bay which is well-protected from the prevailing winds and is blessed with a sandy bottom, isolated beaches and a fabulous castle to climb to for views.  The area has been inhabited since Mycaenean times and reeks of history. Just north of the bay in which we were anchored is a lovely crescent bay, Ormos Voidhokoilia, which we accessed with the dinghy one morning.  There is also a magnificent cave a short hike from the beach in which it is said that Hermes hid the cattle he stole from Apollo. Having used the ‘goat track’ to climb to the cave, I seriously doubt any cattle made that journey!

The entrance to Ormos Navarinno 

The 'neo kastro' at Pylos

The 'paleo kastro' at Pylos

The view looking south from the paleo kastro

Ormos Voidhokoilia

Our anchorage at Ormos Navarinno

Taking the dinghy around to Ormos Voidhokoilia

With the winds building from the northwest we decided to stay in Ormos Navarino for several days, visiting the town of Pylos the small village of Yialova on the northeastern side of the bay and enjoying swims and walks on the beach.

One starts to feel rather settled after spending several days in an anchorage, and it almost becomes difficult to move on.  Knowing that there may be (and probably are) more interesting and lovely places to visit, however, is enough of an incentive to keep going. 

Our next stop was Methoni, on the southwestern tip of the Pelonponnese.  This ancient town comes into view from a distance due to its magnificent fortifications along the length of a peninsula and tipped by a wondrous tower built by the Turks for both protection and as a lookout.  The harbour is small but well-protected and the bottom is sand (which we always love as it makes for a secure anchorage) and relatively flat, tapering slowly to shore.  Once we were settled in, we went ashore to explore the castle/fortress.  Many of the outside walls are still well-preserved, originally built by the Venetians as one of their “Eyes of the Republic” – a lookout to protect their trading route to the Levant (as the Middle East was known in the Middle Ages).  The fortress was then later reinforced by the Turks and you can see the different building methods and materials in the walls.  There is not much to see now within the old walls but it is a pleasant walk with some lovely views, particularly from the Turkish Tower at the southern end of the peninsula.

The castle at Methoni

The Turkish Tower at Methoni

A steeple and bell at the small church in the castle precinct

As it was a Sunday afternoon, there were very few people around and everything was closed, but we enjoyed a pleasant walk through the back streets, picking ripe figs and blackberries from overhanging trees and brambles and peeking in at some beautifully restored stone-built cottages and their well-kept gardens.  Coming from suburban life in Australia, it is wondrous for us to see the amount of space the Greek people allocate to their gardens – filled with olive and citrus trees, as well as the ubiquitous ‘veggie patch’, there are usually flowers and other greenery as well, but no grass lawns.  The water supply, and no doubt the soil and weather conditions simply do not allow for them.  There is almost always a stone, tiled or concrete patio with a table and chairs to take part in long family lunches, and often a bench under a shady olive tree for the elder members of the family to sit and ponder life.  Really, a very enviable lifestyle.

The next day we headed around the coast to Kironi – also known as ‘Neo Koroni’ (or new Koroni) since the original town is about 15km north of the present town.  Kironi boasts another fortress high on the hill and this was the second of the Venetian’s two “Eyes of the Pepublic”.  Although the fortifications themselves are less impressive, they are still very visible on the approach to the town.  We chose to anchor in the little bay to the north of the harbour in sand, as it was a good choice at the time in the prevailing wind.  It also was the closest option to getting to the fortress, and doing a little grocery shopping.  We climbed the steps and the narrow cobbled road to the grand Eastern Entrance of the walls, and entered the most peaceful and sublime area we have yet encountered within a citadel.  There are still a few cottages (supplied with electricity, and one imagines, town water) with their gardens and olive groves inside the fortress walls, as well as a charming monastery of St John, upon which we stumbled quite by accident.  We entered the monastery grounds, resplendent with colourful blooms including our native grevillea (red), hibiscus and bougainvillea, and discovered that there was a small chapel and an area atop a wall for viewing.  The local nuns were rather clever, having placed a number of ‘wraps’ in the vestibule so that visitors who were ‘inappropriately dressed’ (shorts, sleeveless tops, etc.) could drape themselves modestly for a visit.  The nuns had also realised that there was money to be made from visitors and had a small gift shop in the grounds where they sold handmade rosaries, icons and homemade myrtle liquor and organic cold-pressed olive oil among their many goods.  No donations were required and the chapel was beautifully painted (built many centuries before but recently restored in 1984) but after being offered a cold drink of water and some ‘loukoumi’ (Turkish delight) we felt rather compelled to make a small purchase from the smiling nun!

The view looking north from Koroni castle (you can just see Bisou in the centre left of the photo)

The East Gate of Koroni Castle

The bells of St John's monastery

One of the cute streets in Koroni

Walking around the area within the walls, we found the remains of an old Byzantine church, as well as several chapels and churches – some in ruins, some less so.  The views from the various points around the ancient walls were really breathtaking – we keep thinking we have seen the best until we see the next one!  Walking back through town, we discovered the shops to still be closed until early evening and so went back to Bisou for some ‘siesta’ time before heading back into town later in the evening for a gyro dinner and some grocery shopping.  By the time we returned to the boat, the wind was rising again (unusual for the evening as it normally lays down by about 8pm or a little later).  It was also tending more northerly and a swell was developing.  I went to bed about 10:30pm but Tad woke me around midnight to suggest that we weigh anchor and go around the peninsula to the south and anchor off  Zanga Beach just south of the fortress.  In the dark, and half asleep, bouncing with the chop we raised the anchor and headed south.  It is very difficult to see a shoreline when you are somewhat blinded by the lights on shore and also difficult to see any boats that may be anchored along the shoreline.  In any case, we were able to nose our way into about 6m of water and drop the anchor, and settle down in much calmer waters with better wind protection for the night.  We slept soundly until late the next morning.

On waking we were thrilled to discover the beauty of our anchorage – although we had passed it the day before and knew it to be a good one in the prevailing winds, when we had gone through earlier, the winds were from the south and it was unprotected.  In hindsight, we should have gone back there after returning to the boat in the evening, while there was still light, but through a miscommunication of headings and weather forecasts between Tad and myself, we thought that we would be fine where we were in the harbour bay.  Imagine our joy when we jumped in the water for our morning swim to find the clearest, most beautiful water we have seen in Greece so far – clear, clean, flat sand bottom with no sign of life (not good, as we do like our fish swimming around us) and the anchor well dug in.  We were sorely tempted to stay another night but the weather forecast was urging us on northward and we had other plans for the next few days.