GREECE - the mainland and the Gulf of Amvrakia

One of the suggestions we had received from our fellow Helia owners was to open up the engines and rev them hard for about 10 minutes every month or so.  We had in fact never done this, so decided to try it on our way to the Levkas Canal – the water was smooth and there was not much wind and we got both engines up to 2700 rpm for about 10 minutes and made a top speed of over 8 knots!  Fun while it lasted but you wouldn’t want to do it for long.

We arrived at the start of the canal, first built in the 7^th century BC and gradually rebuilt several times by the Romans, Byzantines and most recently by the Greeks with a little help from the British.  It is not very wide and only 6m deep at the deepest points so not made for large boats. At Levkas Town there is a floating bridge which swings open on the hour (more or less, depending on the bridge operator; we heard one frantic skipper call on VHF 16 at 11:20am to open the bridge as he had an appointment on the other side!) and the boats file through – first the southbound boats, followed by the northbound boats.  There are a couple of large barges along the quay on the northern side which makes for an exciting zig-zagging through a rather narrow channel.  We were lucky that the wind was not blowing too strongly at the time we entered as it was a pretty tight squeeze for Bisou!

Out the other side and we were in open water for the first time in a week.  The wind was blowing sufficiently to put up the genoa but as it was only a short distance to get to Preveza we decided to be lazy and not put up the mainsail.  We still managed to get close to 6 knots just with the genoa and one engine practically idling.

The approach to the Preveza channel is interesting – the markers begin quite far out as there are shoals in the area, but the markers have obviously not been maintained.  They badly needed painting and one wonders whether the lights work at night?  Still, together with Ray (our chart plotter) and visually sighting the markers, we made our way into the channel with 25 knot winds howling behind us.

We motored towards Preveza taking a look at the town quay as we went past and anchored just north of the town in an area with other yachts.  Once we got Bisou settled down and locked up (you never know how secure an anchorage is from a theft perspective) we took the dinghy ashore to explore Preveza.

For a Saturday afternoon, this sleepy town/village seemed to have very little going on – very few people around, most of the shops closed and just the restaurants and tavernas looking somewhat alive.  We did locate a very well-stocked supermarket just behind the quay and bought a few items to pad out our supplies, including a delicious watermelon.

On the way back to the boat, we stopped for a ‘gyro’ (Greek ‘sharwarma’ or ‘donner kebab’ – very yummy, filling and cheap) and the inevitable ice cream.  These late snack-lunches fill us up so well we often feel no need for dinner, except for a shake or some fruit.

Happily both our dinghy and Bisou were exactly where and how we left them; we also discovered, to our delight, that we had television reception and that the BBC World Service was one of the stations we could connect with.  Not having seen a newspaper for several days it was a treat to be able to munch on some juicy watermelon and watch the news before retiring that night.

The next morning we made our way by dinghy across the bay to Cleopatra Marina – the Preveza area is host to three marinas all lined up in a row, and on the opposite side of the bay to Preveza, but right beside Aktion airport.  The reason for the visit to Cleopatra was to have a look around at their facilities and make a decision as to whether it was a suitable place to leave Bisou for the winter.  Because of her width there are not many places that have a travelift/crane/tractor that is large enough to haul a catamaran of Bisou’s size, but some friends had left their Helia 44 here last winter and were please with the services. Robin had obtained a quote from them which seemed very reasonable, particularly when compared with quotes from Turkish marinas, and so we thought we would check it out.  Being a Sunday, not much was open but we had a good chat with the girl at the front office and walked around the marina. The storage area was huge and Tad was very impressed with the equipment being used to haul boats.  We decided to come back later in the week to finalise a contract and speak with the people who would be involved in us leaving the boat over winter (not there on a Sunday).

Surveying the chart of the Gulf of Amvrakia, and encouraged by fellow sailors’ accounts of the area we decided to spend the next few days exploring this vast inland sea.  Off we set, hoisted the sails and planned a course that would take us in the direction of Vonitsa.

For the second time this season, we sailed solidly just for fun – yes, we were headed in a particular direction, but with no fixed schedule we could take our time getting there.  As it happens (and as it does every afternoon in this part of the Mediterranean) the wind blows up starting about noon.  By 15:00pm the wind is usually blowing 20-25 knots from the West or Northwest, peaking by 17:00pm.  By 18:30pm it starts to drop off finally slowing right down by sunset (about 21:00pm at the moment).  So we took advantage and sailed almost right into the secluded bay that we would anchor in for the night. Fortunately many of the anchorages are surrounded by hills which help to dampen the wind somewhat and with no swell we are usually quite comfortable.

That night, with only two other boats on the other side of the bay, we had a quiet evening with lots of stars.  The water in the Gulf is not that beautiful aqua blue that we had with the sandy bottom earlier in the week, but it’s warmer and still very swimmable.

Monday morning we motored past Vonitsa and anchored in a large bay to the east of an island joined to the mainland by a causeway and bridge.  Once we had Bisou anchored, we took the dinghy into town to explore.  There is a large  17^th century Venetian castle/fortress that overlooks the town and we climbed up the beautifully laid path (polished limestone pavers) to the fortress to get a view over the town and the bay.  It was a warm morning but we were the only people up there.  We walked all over the fortress walls and around the buildings imagining what these remains could tell us of the battles and lives of those who had lived here long ago.

We also wandered through Vonitsa which was a cute little town – lots of tavernas/restaurants along the waterfront but not much in the back streets.  A cute little marina, a fairly well-laid out town quay and a nicely maintained pebble beach to the east of the town and that was Vonitsa!  Tad found a quaint little bakery that baked their bread in a wood-fired oven and we bought a still-warm loaf to take back to the boat for lunch.

The afternoon was a lazy one with paddling the kayak, swimming and reading our Kindles on the trampoline.  Such bliss!

Tuesday morning we went back into Vonitsa to supplement our tomato and watermelon rations and then headed over to the next bay to the east of last night’s anchorage.  The journey barely took an hour sailing the whole way (we went across to the north side of the Gulf and back to make the trip longer) but we were pleasantly surprised by the small bay just around the headland.  There were a couple of villas and a herd of sheep in a field which made for a lovely pastoral setting. Further down the bay we could see more yachts and a caravan park, and although the wind came up rather strongly later in the afternoon, we were happy where we were.

Wednesday we decided to try and get to the lee of a small island in the middle of the Gulf that had a lagoon in the middle of it.  It looked rather nice and peaceful but as the water was shallow in the area we had to get there in the morning while the water was flat and the light was good from the sun to be able to spot submerged rocks.  It was disappointing to find another yacht already anchored where we wanted to be so we moved around to another bay just beside.  One thing we have found here in the Gulf is that the ‘beaches’ which look inviting through our binoculars often tend to be dirty (lots of plastic bottles, and other flotsam and jetsam washed up from storms and the strong winds) and pebbly.  There are also LOTS of sea urchins everywhere so care must be taken when stepping ashore from a swim or off the kayak. We always wear sturdy reef-walker shoes or Robin also wears her dive booties when she wants to go snorkeling with her fins.  The sea urchins are small and a reddish colour, and the spines are not as sharp and hard as the black sea urchins’ spines but you wouldn’t want to tread on them in bare feet!

View from the top of Vonitsa Castle looking Northeast

Small church on the island east of Vonitsa

View from Vonitsa Castle looking Northwest

As the wind came up in the afternoon, much more strongly than predicted (another ‘usual’ that we have found annoying!) we moved back into the bay with the other yacht, trying to anchor a discrete distance from him, but mostly to avoid the swell that was creeping around the head of the island.  That night the wind calmed once again (thankfully) for a peaceful night's sleep.

The next day we set off early for Preveza to refuel the boat at Cleopatra Marina and make arrangements to leave Bisou there for the winter.

GREECE - Levkas

Determined to keep heading north, and there not being any significant bays to protect us from the prevailing winds, we rose early and  made for the channel once again, between Cephalonia and Ithaca.  Already at 8:30am there were strong winds on our nose as we motored up the channel.  We were visited by a couple of large dolphins for a short while and although Robin had her lure out hopeful of a catch, once again …nothing.  We looked at stopping in Fiskhardo, a small town on the northern end of Cephalonia, but decided that we could come back that way later and that it was better to keep going.  We had made email contact with some Aussie cruiser friends who were anchored in a bay on Levkas and wanted to catch up with them.

As we exited the channel and changed course, we were delighted to be able to raise the mainsail and the genoa and actually sail for about an hour as we crossed open water from Cephalonia to Levkas.  As is usual for the winds in the Ionian, just about mid-morning, the winds dropped to a gentle breeze and it was time to bring in the sails and motor again!

The passage between Levkas and Meganisi (the island to the east of Levkas) is rather spectacular with the high cliffs of Levkas contrasting with the lower and very green hills of Meganisi.  We hope to visit the latter on our way south later in the summer.  There were a number of lovely bays we might have stopped in, but we continued north until we reached Nidri and the channel into Vlikhos Bay.  This bay was much larger than we expected and although not full of boats at the time we arrived, by evening many more entered and anchored all around us.  It is a well-sheltered and rather shallow bay surrounded by high mountains and hills so a popular ‘escape’ for inclement weather as well as being a lovely peaceful place.  Our friends on “Nawii” (also owners of a Helia 44 which they collected just a month before we did in La  Rochelle) found us and we had a fun reunion chatting about what we had both been up to over the past year.

That evening we dinghied ashore to a lovely tavern on the east side of the bay where the waiters greeted us, taking our line and tying us up to the dock where the tables awaited.  We enjoyed a delicious Greek meal, starry skies and extremely attentive staff.  The hospitality and politeness of the Greeks has been overwhelming so far.

The next morning we took the dinghy and explored the bay – not much to see, really, and Vlikhos is barely a town with a small mini-market and a few tavernas.  There are a number of boatyards around which appear to be functioning but not much else.  Continuing up the channel a short way to Nidri, we found a much more active atmosphere.  There is a car/passenger ferry here which comes across from the mainland and it’s obviously a popular tourist spot as well.  The port area is lined with tavernas, bars and clubs and one street back is wall-to-wall shops and more restaurants, etc.  We did a little grocery shopping and Tad found a chaotic but extremely well-stocked marine shop/chandlery.  Returning to the boat, we weighed anchor and set off towards the Greek mainland, intending to rendezvous with more Aussie friends.

As we exited the channel from Nidri, we were thrilled to find 25 knots of wind blowing so up went the main and the genoa and we enjoyed an hour or two of sailing back and forth across the water between Levkas and the Greek mainland.  Tad had the biggest grin on his face – it was probably one of the few times that we have actually sailed just for fun rather than having to get somewhere and we hope to do a lot more this summer!  We eventually made our way to the small bay known as Marathias and dropped anchor in more turquoise waters off a pebble beach.  That evening we hosted our first dinner party of the season welcoming Jeff and Sandra from “Nawii”, Debbie and Campbell from “Wallanthea” and Helen and Marcel from “Dakini.  We really enjoyed having everyone aboard and had lots of laughs sharing sailing stories!

Planning on staying only a day or two, we have ended up remaining in this heavenly anchorage for much longer.  Each day we are swarmed by charter boats who come in and anchor for an hour or two, have a swim ashore and then leave by about 3pm.  Each night we have four or five boats at most, and a beautiful starlit, peaceful evening.  One night we dinghied around to the next cove and found a small tavern with a home-cooked meal that was delicious!

I have to digress a little to share an amusing tale of language difficulties: our friend Jeff is a ‘true blue’ Aussie and has never been exposed to other languages.  He has been sailing with his lovely wife, Sandra, for the past year throughout the Mediterranean but has not learned much in the way of local languages.  One of the problems of being at anchor in remote bays is the accumulation of rubbish/garbage and finding ways and means of disposal.  Jeff took his rubbish on his kayak and paddled down to the tavern (which also happened to be a sort of resort which rents out villas and has a beach bar) to enquire about a rubbish bin.  The lady in charge spoke some English but could not make head or tail of Jeff’s Aussie accented “rubbish bin”.  She understood that he wanted ‘rabbit’ and the only ‘bin’ she knew of was beans!  She thought he wanted her to make him rabbit with beans!  A Danish guest with some English was brought in to try and clarify the situation and she concurred with the manager that Jeff wanted rabbit with beans.  Shaking her head, the Greek lady said that she had no rabbit or beans.  Later that evening when we went back to the restaurant for dinner, Jeff told us the story of how he had enquired about leaving his rubbish there – I explained to the Greek manager that he was looking for a garbage can and pointed to the bin at the side of the building.  “Oh!” she said – garbage!  I understand that word!  Then we all had a good laugh when we realised the comedy of errors!  Jeff needed to use sign language, drawing or other words to describe what he was looking for!

Today we experienced a lowlight (as opposed to a highlight) in our cruising season – rubbish!  Those of you with whom I am friends on FaceBook will have already read the story there, but for the rest of our readers, here it is.  For the past couple of days, we have been walking up and down the beach in our anchorage (Ormos Marathias 38 degrees 45’.790N 020 degrees 47’.378E) picking up rubbish.  It all started a couple of days ago when Robin was swimming ashore for her morning exercise and swam into a plastic bag.  She was so incensed that this beautiful beach and water should have a plastic bag floating in it, she started walking down the beach collecting plastic bottles, bottle caps and string and placing them in a pile.  Tad joined her a little later and between the two of us, we spent a good couple of hours the first day and a couple of hours the second day picking up every bit of rubbish we could find.  Tad had planned to take some petrol ashore and burn the rubbish but was dissuaded from this by other yachties as being  possibly a bit of a problem.  So we left the rubbish we had collected in buckets, bags and piles in a neat pit away from the beach.

Yesterday afternoon, a flotilla of sailboats arrived into the bay.  They were the usual chaotic bunch, all anchoring on top of one another (including the boats that were already in the anchorage) and we all tried to make sure our boats were safe from the invasion.  Other than this, they were a relatively quiet and peaceful lot.  We saw them all dinghy ashore and later spotted a nice bonfire on the beach which they were clearly enjoying.  They behaved and were not rowdy returning to their boats quite late. Imagine our horror the next morning when we went for our morning swim and saw the detritus left by the flotilla on shore!  A huge firepit full of burned beer cans, balls of aluminium foil, plastic cups and plates as well as an esky, and a passerelle (used as a bench we suppose) and so much more!  All left for the world to see – meanwhile the ‘guests’ of the flotilla (the sailors) were calmly sitting on their yachts, having their breakfasts and gradually waking up.  Robin went ashore first and took photos  - Tad leapt into the dinghy and went over to the flotilla’s skipper to have a chat.  Tad noticed that the skipper’s yacht was a rubbish tip itself, with ‘stuff everywhere’ (to quote Tad) and quite filthy. He had sent the mechanic (according to the latter) ashore to clean up.  When Tad questioned the ‘mechanic’ about what his intentions were regarding the burned beer cans, the reply was “the guests were a bit naughty last night”.  We told them we would be posting the photos on FaceBook as well as contacting Sunsail about this disgrace.  This was duly done by Robin – now we’ll see if there is any response!

It was time to leave our little piece of Paradise, as our friends were all moving on and we needed to get up to Preveza to organize a few things as well as provision the boat.  We weighed anchor and set off for the Levkas Canal.

The little town of Nidri on Levkas Island

Our anchorage for several days just off Levkas

The beach rubbish after the Sunsail flotilla!

A Rocna anchor

A Delta anchor

See previous post!

GREECE - Cephalonia

Officially entering Greece was quite unlike any other country we had been to thus far (perhaps with the exception of Tunisia) in that there was a fair amount of bureaucracy to contend with.  As we motored up the channel to Argostoli, we prepared the paperwork and re-read the pilot guide for information as to what we would need to do once we arrived into Argostoli.  In Greece, there are certain ‘ports of entry’ that perform the duties of customs clearance, passport stamping and transit log preparation, and we had already decided to enter at Argostoli on the island of Cephalonia.  The harbour is a well-protected one with a long public quay on which we were able to tie up alongside as it was not particularly crowded.  The advantage of this was to be secure and close to shops and restaurants – the disadvantage was that a large cruise ship had just berthed in the harbour and there were literally thousands of tourists walking around gawking at us as they passed by the boat.  We had been given the name of a ‘port agent’ by our French friends in Tunisia and said to call him on the VHF when we arrived.  Little did we know that he was incredibly busy with the cruise ship in town but he did make the effort to meet us at the boat and offer to assist us with our paperwork.  In the meantime, while we were tied up, we met some Americans who had also just arrived from Sicily where they had wintered (they have dual citizenship with Italian passports as well) and as they come to Greece every year they told us that the procedure was very straightforward and that we could do it ourselves.  In the end, “Leonardo” our agent, didn’t show up later that evening when we went ashore for dinner, so we ended up doing the necessary paperwork ourselves the next day – more on that later.

We decided that we would be more comfortable at anchor in the bay, so after dumping our rubbish, we released our lines and found a good spot near the Americans and not far from a Canadian sailboat called “Three Sheets” from Sarnia, Ont!  We met the owners of this boat later that day and had a great chat with them – lovely people who bought their boat in San Diego and have sailed it all the way through the Panama Canal and across the Atlantic to the Mediterranean.

A Greek dinner was almost obligatory for our first night in Greece, and so, although we were rather tired after our long voyage, we showered and dressed for a nice dinner out.  We found a small, and not-too-touristy ‘taverna’ (restaurant) with a good variety and reasonably priced and sat down to eat.  The first item to be ordered was a large (500mL) glass of ice cold beer, followed by fried anchovies (small fish) and souvlaki (kebabs); all of which were delicious.  Home-made baklava was impossible for Robin to resist and even Tad, who had a taste, thought it was very tasty.  Thus replete, we headed back to the boat and a sound night’s sleep.

The next morning Robin made her way ashore to complete the entry documents:  as our boat is non-EU we needed to purchase a ‘transit log’.  This is somewhat like a ‘passport’ for the boat and is valid for 6 months (even though we, its crew/passengers/owners, may only stay in Schengen Europe for 3 months) – each port that we stop in, we are supposed to get a stamp in and stamp out and this way the Greek authorities can keep track of where you go and how long you stay.  The fact that many cruisers stay at anchor almost the entire time they are in Greece means that it is not convenient to try and find port police to get the transit log stamped – the authorities are well aware of this and simply ask that you try and get the log stamped once a month or so.  The most important thing is that you MUST hand it in and be stamped out of Greece when you leave – if you do not do this, all kinds of hell breaks loose (I don’t want to know about it!).  So, this means that you need to find a port near to where you plan to exit, that has the authorities to be able to stamp you out (not always easy!).

The documentation process was going smoothly and we were simply waiting for the police to stamp our passports when our Canadian friend came running to the Port Authority where we were seated to tell us that Bisou had dragged her anchor and was sitting just metres from a concrete causeway about 200m from where we had left her!  Tad leaped to his feet, and ran with Reg back to our dinghy and from there out to Bisou to ‘rescue’ her!  Robin, meanwhile, waiting on the dock was watching through her binoculars hoping that all would be well.  In  the end, the whole thing was a comedy of errors – in their haste to leap onto Bisou, Tad had asked Reg to tie off the dinghy and come aboard while he reset the anchor.  They motored back to where we had originally anchored, reset and made Bisou safe again, then prepared to take Reg back to shore (where Reg’s wife, Phoebe, and their dinghy were waiting). That was when they noticed that the dinghy was no longer there!  Looking around the bay Tad spotted a fishing boat coming along towing ‘P’tit Bisou’ behind him – both Tad and Reg waved madly at the fisherman who came alongside Bisou and took Tad across to the Port Authority.  Tad tried to explain to the fisherman that they had lost the dinghy in the rush to get back on the boat but the fisherman spoke only Greek and insisted on taking the dinghy to the Port Authority. We discovered later that he had radioed in his find and wanted to be sure that the dinghy was returned to its rightful owner!  We thanked him profusely and the adventure was over!  Well, we still were waiting to get our passports stamped – the police officer had gone off on another errand, but thankfully our ‘friend’ Leonardo offered to take us to the police station in his car where we were finally officially stamped in to Schengen Europe and Greece!

We invited our new ‘best friends’, the Canadians, on board for a drink and a chat that evening and enjoyed their company and their stories immensely.  Exhausted from all the excitement of the day, we fell asleep rather early.

Having walked through the streets of Argostoli, and found that it was full of tourist shops and tavernas, we decided to head out the next day.  Robin went ashore to stamp us out of Argostoli and Tad went to collect the Camping Gaz bottle which he was having filled.  We had also decided to try and find our fisherman ‘saviour’ and give him a bottle of wine and a little stuffed koala to say ‘thank you’ for rescuing our dinghy.  Just as we were leaving Bisou to go ashore, Tad waved the fisherman down who happened to be passing by.  The fisherman came over to the boat and asked what he could do to help – we merely handed him the bottle of wine and said we wanted to thank him for helping us the day before.  He was extremely pleased and motored off to the quay to sell his night’s catch.  After completing the stamping out, Robin walked back to meet Tad where he confessed to having made a “terrible mistake”.  We had inadvertently given the wrong fisherman the bottle of wine! While walking along the quay to collect the Camping Gaz bottle, Tad had seen the ‘correct’ fisherman arguing with the fisherman to whom we had gifted the wine and gesturing wildly towards our boat!  Tad immediately realised that it was a case of mistaken identity (in all fairness to Tad, the fishing boat was identical and the ‘real’ fisherman, whose name we found to be Stavros, looked VERY similar to the ‘wrong’ fisherman) and we raced back to Bisou to collect another bottle of wine, another koala and bring it to Stavros with profuse apologies.  While we were trying to explain what happened, another local stopped by who spoke excellent English and was able to translate our error into Greek for Stavros!  Fortunately everyone had a good laugh about it all and we were able to make our escape from Argostoli without further mishap!

We headed back out of the channel and around the south coast of the island to a beautiful sandy bay and the little town of Katelios.  Our American friends had told us about this anchorage and were due to catch up later that day.  We thought we were truly in heaven in this place – lovely clear water, tavernas lining the beach further down and peace and quiet at night.  One of Tad’s immediate desires was to change our anchor – not my idea of relaxation, but after our dragging incident (for which we still have no explanation) he wanted to put on our Rocna anchor.

I will digress for a moment here while I explain about the anchors.  Those of you who have no interest in sailing technology can skip to the next paragraph!

When we initially ordered all the extra bits and pieces for Bisou in La Rochelle, Tad had ordered two anchors: both Rocnas (made in NZ and very good!), one of which was 35kg and one of which was 25kg.  The heavier anchor was to be our main anchor while the 25kg one was our secondary anchor (in case we lost the other).  Due to all kinds of hiccups by our sometimes wonderful chandlery in La Rochelle, the heavier anchor was not ordered until too late and we never received it before we left.  We tried in vain to find another at various chandleries along the way, but it’s not an item normally carried (expensive and therefore not as popular as others). We did end up purchasing a 32kg Delta anchor instead before we left La Rochelle, and this served us well, never dragging, always ‘biting well’ up until Argostoli.  We think that in Argostoli, the anchor must have flipped over when the wind changed direction and never bit back in as it dragged (which shouldn’t happen but does).  The Rocna has a very sharp point (good for biting into weed and heavier clay) as well as a ‘roll bar’ which allows it to roll over and ‘bite’ if it drags or changes direction.  Even though our Rocna was only 25kg it is rated for a boat our size and Tad felt that it was a better option for the types of bottom we would be encountering in Greece.  So, with some effort by Robin manipulating the engines to keep Bisou in place while Tad raised the old anchor and fixed the new one (I have made it sound so easy – it wasn’t!) we re-anchored and were delighted with the way our Rocna bit into the sand.  The real test would come later in more challenging anchorage areas.

A little later in the afternoon we sighted “Finalmente” with our American friends on board and invited them over for a drink and nibbles which went on until late (as they do on yachts!) and not needing any dinner, we hit the hay!

The next day we went ashore to explore the little village of Katelios and were amazed to see the number of people around in small hotels, and guest houses.  We snorkeled, swam, and just generally enjoyed the weather and eventually all decided to go ashore for dinner that night.  We had drinks and nibbles on board “Finalmente” first, and then dinghied ashore for a lovely Greek meal with live ‘bouzouki’ music to entertain us!

After a couple of days in a delightful anchorage we were keen to keep going and so rounded the southeastern cape of Cephalonia and headed north.  Beautiful small towns in bays and on hillsides were fun to pass by, and of course, Robin had her hook out to try and catch those elusive tuna!  We were visited by a pod of dolphins on the way north, but nary a fish!

As we entered a ‘channel’ between Cephalonia and the island of Ithaca, the wind increased considerably and so the last hour or so of our journey was with a 25 knot headwind and a chop. Not much fun, but the anchorage we found made the trip worthwhile.  We had spotted a little bay on the charts but there was not much information either about the size or the nature of the bottom.  Fortunately for us, there was a large yacht in the anchorage but they were literally just leaving!  As there really was no room for more than a single boat (of our size) we were really pleased at our good fortune.  The bay was not far from Ay Evfemia, but as isolated as if we were on the moon. Nothing but the sound of waves and goats!  As we jumped in for a swim we were puzzled by the chill in the water until we put our masks on and saw the familiar blurr in the water indicating fresh water streams flowing into the bay.  The seawater was a comfortable temperature, but where the freshwater streams met the ocean it was chilly!  We sat on our boat watching a local farmer draw fresh water from a well up the hill and walk down to his olive trees along the beachfront to water them several times.  We enjoyed a lovely peaceful evening star-gazing and then sleeping soundly.

Argostoli our first port of entry into Greece on the island of Cephalonia

The island of Cephalonia (our anchorage at Katelios is in the middle)

Our isolated bay near Ay Evfamia

The doric lighthouse near Argostoli