I am writing this on the ferry en route to Ancona. Yesterday we drained the water tanks, unplugged the mains electricity and filled every through-hull fitting with pieces of sponge in an effort to thwart the wasps from building nests in every nook and cranny during our absence. It’s the same ritual every year and a time for mixed feelings. It is always sad to leave the sunshine and beauty of Greece and the Greek people though we always look forward to seeing friends and family again.

Rampage being lifted, sails already removed
The pace of life aboard Rampage through the summer is inevitably slow. Most of the time it’s far too hot for anything else. My good intentions to maintain the hard-earned fitness I’d achieved over the winter and spring evaporated in the heat haze. My weights and Pilates bands languished in bottom of my wardrobe and the few walks we did were rarely more than a leisurely stroll. Okay, I swam most days and when we were alone (I.e. no visitors on board,) I swam hard. We also messed about in the kayak. But that’s it. So I know when I start rowing again my abs will protest horribly, but I do relish the slower pace of life through the summer.
One thing I have achieved while we’ve been on board has been quite a lot of writing. It was quantity rather than quality at this stage – a case of just get the words down – refining and editing come later. Still it feels like an achievement and I hope I don’t lose the momentum when we get home in the way I’ve let my fitness levels slip while we’ve been away.
Since waving farewell to Bill and Sara in Agia Efimia, we have gradually made our way north. The day after they left, I went over to accost the owner of a small trawler-type boat that was anchored nearby. We had seen it a few days earlier in Sivota and had been intrigued by the poles/arms either side and had been trying to work out their purpose. D wondered if they were something to do with big game fishing but it turned out that they were a stabilising device. Anyway, we wound up having a drink on board Envoy that evening and now have an offer to visit Laurie and Diane in Auckland if we ever go to New Zealand.
At about 03:00 the next morning, we were woken by the wind. It was eerie. I had already woken for some reason and could hear a sort of whooshing noise getting louder and louder as it approached. It was positively menacing. The ferocity as it arrived was extraordinary. Rampage tossed at the end of her anchor chain and the dinghy skittered about madly on the stern. Then the rain arrived. We were both up and hastily went to check outside. Having established that all was well, we retired below to sit it out. It was over as quickly as it had begun and no damage done; we possibly dragged half a boat length. With some considerable relief, we retired to bed again.

Ice-cold ciders on our final evening at George’s
We had one last night in Big Vathi on Ithaca so I could by some little gifts for people, a night back at George’s (aka Karnagio’s) on Meganisi and one night in Abelike. In other words, a final visit to some favourite haunts to say adieu.
One small incident occurred while we were in anchor. This year, as mentioned in a previous post, I skippered the boat single-handed for the first time. In Abelike I had another first: I earned myself a bottle of wine. Previously, it has always been Duncan who has done the noble deeds and gone to rescue those in difficulties but on this occasion it was my turn, although it was a joint effort when we boarded the unattended yacht that was adrift earlier this summer.

Me and my prize!
Anyway, there I was, minding my own business that final evening in Abelike and thinking the sun was probably over the yardarm (😉) when I realised that there was a small dinghy full of five large Germans drifting past our boat. To my interested enquiry, they confirmed that they did indeed ‘have a problem’. They had run out of fuel and had not taken the precaution of bringing along any paddles.
It took several minutes to drop the outboard onto our dinghy by which time they drifted some distance away – there was quite a breeze blowing that evening, though fortunately it was onshore. Anyway, I gave chase, caught up with them and took their painter. I could not simply give them some of our spare fuel because they had a four-stroke and we have a two-stroke outboard. Instead I tried to tow them back. I then discovered that our little 2.5 hp engine was no match for their combined body weight. I went solemnly round and round in circles getting nowhere! We finally resolved the problem when one of their party climbed into my dinghy and we left the others to their fate while he and I battled back to their boat against a building sea. I kept trying to persuade him to sit further towards the stern but he seemed reluctant and so was thoroughly soaked by the time we reached their boat. He then clambered aboard to grab their fuel can and a bottle for me. Our journey back was easier as we were going with the wind and by the time we reached the shore, his companions had just arrived, blown there by the wind!
His parting comment to me as I departed, leaving them to their evening meal ashore was, ‘Thank goodness this happened before Brexit!’
Later as I sat in the cockpit, I heard them returning to their boat, full of wine, food and bonhomie, their outboard chugging happily. It was only a day or two later that I realised my reward had not just been a bottle of fizz but the real McCoy – albeit a brand I don’t know! Not bad for 30 minutes work – if that.
We’d planned to spend two nights in Abelike before heading up to anchor off Preveza on Tuesday. However on Monday morning D announced that there was a strong possibility of rain on Tuesday and he would like to set off that morning as he didn’t fancy travelling through a rainstorm. I then said in that case we should drop and stow the sails while they were dry.

Rain clouds overhead after we had left the Levkas canal.
It was a still morning so we leapt out of bed and the job was done by just after 10:00. It’s not easy to flake a sail on board as there is so little space on deck. There was nowhere ashore to go to fold it so we did our best with the genoa. However we slid the main off the boom while still in its stack pack and manoeuvred it like some giant slug, down the companionway and into the starboard cabin. As we wrestled it in through the cabin door it felt was though we were struggling to subdue some giant sea monster! Later, once we were on the hard, we had to reverse the process, lower it to the ground and fold it properly before winching it back on board with the aid of the halyard.
Still, everything has really gone remarkably smoothly, and as far as I am aware, we have left nothing behind. (Last year we left the bimini behind by mistake.) We have tried to keep to a minimum this time, bringing home things we shall have to take back next spring. The main thing we have brought are the mosquito screens as the netting all needs replacement due to UV damage. The reason for taking home as little as possible is that we hope to fly out next year. We quite enjoy the drive but it works out very much more expensive and the car then just sits in the yard all summer, quite literally, gathering dust.
Incidentally, one minor drama we had after lift-out was the discovery of a flat tyre. This was compounded when the electric tyre inflator drained the last remnants of life from the car battery. Oops! However, all this was swiftly resolved, so no crisis.
We plan to plan to make the most of our trip home. I will spend the next few days in Florence before making our way up through Switzerland to Haarlem near Amsterdam to see our son, Jonno and his family. We expect to be back in Cornwall in just over a week.

A last glorious sunset on our final night