Running Repairs

Setting off for Poros this morning

There is something rather magical about going ashore in the early morning to buy bread for breakfast. Today was typical; there was a deep stillness, the water glassy and nothing else stirred. The outboard was the only sound to disturb the quiet, as the dinghy left a V-shaped ruffle across the mirrored surface of the bay, disrupting the reflected image of the hills towering above.

Or maybe it’s simply that going for bread makes me think of Swallows and Amazons and we should really be buying seed cake rather than croissants? (I’ve never eaten seed cake but I remember my father telling me that he had it as a child in the ‘30s and it was unspeakably foul! This was quite something from Dad, who would eat almost anything. To me it sounds a bit like something you would put out for the birds in winter.)

Breakfast en route

Anyway, I went ashore early this morning because we are now on our way to Poros, some six hours or more away at the bottom end of Kefalonia. We wanted to make an early start because the little harbour there gets very crowded and so we need to arrive in good time to be sure of a place on the quay.

We have spent the past two days back in Vliho (or Velcro Bay as D calls it because it’s so hard to get away from the damn place.)

We went back to Vliho on Tuesday afternoon to meet up with Mike and Sandy again. There was a good northerly 3-4 blowing so we had a cracking sail but when we got into Vliho it was still, airless and stinking hot. Plan A had been to do a barbecue on board but this was vetoed as being simply unbearable in the heat. Instead, Mike drove us back up to the little taverna in the hills above Sivota. We spent the whole evening there, eating meze and enjoying the breeze.

Up at the taverna in the hills with Sandy & Mike

Earlier, when we dropped anchor, we had discovered that the slider on the sail bag zip was missing. This is a problem because the sail bag packs the mainsail away neatly, protecting it from both the UV and the wind, bearing in mind that the sail is approximately 45 square metres and weighs about 80 kilos. Not something you want flapping wildly around, (as we were to discover later.)

We had to get the zip repaired therefore, but we were reasonably sanguine because we reckoned we could salvage a suitable slider from an old shade piece. We tied up the bag with rope pro-temps and the next morning before heading back to Abelaki, while D replaced the stanchion pulleys for the Genoa furling line, I unpicked the end of the zip, put in the new slider and stitched it all up. This was not quite as easy as it sounds because it had to be done in-situ, standing on the cockpit coaming and using a sailor’s palm and waxed thread. It took about 45 minutes and a lovely job I made of it, if I do say so myself!

New zip slider in position and zip hand stitched back in place

So, job done! Well, no.

We set off back to Abelaki with the sail bag open in case we were lucky enough to get another sail. We weren’t, but we had a pleasant enough day and it was only towards evening that I remembered that we had never done the sail bag up. We then discovered why the original slider had gone missing: there was a small section of zip without any teeth on one side. Damn! This meant a whole new zip which meant returning yet again to Vliho.

We needed something sorted by Saturday (today) because we have to get round to Argostoli on the western side of Kefalonia by Tuesday to meet Terri and Iain, after which we will be heading for the Peloponnese. There is a sail and canvas-work shop next door to Vliho Yact Club so our plan was to go there for help.

There were three possible outcomes:

1) they could simply replace the zip for us.

2) They had a suitable zip but could not do the work in the required timeframe, in which case we would have to do the work ourselves. Mike and Sandy have a sewing machine out here which we knew they would let us borrow, but the thought of replacing a five metre zip with temperatures up in the high 30s was not good.

3) They had no suitable zip and we would have to manage for the rest of the summer, holding the bag together with bungee cord.

An other worldly effect from the early morning mist, en route from Abelaki to Vliho on Thursday.

We therefore set off early on Thursday morning and arrived back in Vliho just before 10:00 only to find that the emporium of Horacio C Todd, Sailmakers does not open until 10:30 (ish). We had a drink at the yacht club while we waited and then went back. There were a few anxious minutes while Orkade searched for a suitable zip, but having found one, (possibly purloined from another job,) she agree to do the work and have it finished by Friday evening, provided that we removed the old zip for her.

The mainsail without its bag, all trussed up like a Christmas turkey

We rushed back to Rampage, extracted the sail bag from beneath the mainsail, trussed up the sail again and set to work to unpick the broken zip. Regular reader of this blog may recall that we made the sail bag ourselves about five years ago. Well boy, we stitched that damn thing securely – it was a nightmare to unpick and it didn’t improve my temper to discover I had been attacking a zip that didn’t need to come out, (where the reefing lines pass round the boom.) Anyway about an hour later, D headed off ashore to deliver the sail bag to Orkede while I cleaned the cockpit of thousands of squiggles of white thread – the detritus from all that unpicking!

The problem with Vliho, as I’ve mentioned in previous blog posts, is that the water is distinctly unsavoury so we cannot swim to cool off. In addition to lots of raw sewage, we have also, on many occasions, seen jelly fish the size of dinner plates lurking in the murky depths. We therefore spent the rest of the day quietly below, out of the sun and with the fan on.

That evening, however, we motored down to Nidri to buy a new fuel can, a new light fitting for the forward head and to have some supper. The trip is just over a mile and takes about 20 minutes in our little dinghy. On the way back the outboard started to hiccup. There was dirt in the feed pipe. D coaxed it along because the thought of having to row that far in a rudderless, inflatable dinghy was not good. We held our breath, and by throttling back to a very sedate speed indeed, we made back to Rampage. Phew.

Yesterday, knowing we had another day to kill, we decided to do some jobs. I stripped the bed, gathered the other washing together and went ashore to do laundry. I then had to turn round and go back to Rampage as I’d failed to take any shoes with me. I eventually wound up with one load in the machine at Sail Ionian and the other down the road at Vliho Yacht Club and while it rumbled away, I sat and used the Wi-fi at a taverna to do various bits of admin.

In the meantime, D had been sorting the outboard. He then decided to replace the alternator belt and regular on the engine and finally he fitted the new light in the forward head and another in our cabin. (This tells you how long the wretched laundry took.)

After hanging out all the washing and having a bit of late lunch, I went back ashore to enquire about the sail bag. To my delight, it was ready but unfortunately I had managed to leave the wallet on board. Not my finest hour. Back I went again. We just about had time to bring in and fold the washing, shower and change before meeting up with Mike, Sandy and their friends for happy hour at the yacht club. We only stayed for one drink however before heading back to Rampage to put the sail bag back in place.

Sail bag back in place & Rampage ready for the off, this morning.

This was a more complex process than removing it had been. It involved hoisting the sail and removing the foot of the sail from the boom. There was just enough breeze to then make trying to feed the sail bag and sail back into the groove along the boom, er, tricky. The sail flapped about noisily and the reefing lines whipped and thrashed making the process quite unpleasant. We’d have done better to have waited til this morning but it’s easy to be wise after the event and we really want an early getaway today.

By the time it was done, reefs and lazy jacks back where they were supposed to be, it was after 9pm. We had a simple supper and went off to bed, just thankful to have got the job done.

Granny at the helm, (‘specially for Gracie!) Vliho Bay in the background.

Last Days of Summer.

We spent one night in Palairos Bay before heading up through the Levkas canal. We just missed the 12 noon opening of the bridge so in order to kill a little time before the 13:00 opening, we went to the fuel berth. We didn’t expect to use a vast amount of fuel in the final ten days or so of the season but it leaves the tank fairly full and therefore lessens the chance of the dreaded diesel bug. As we left the fuel berth we noticed ‘Levitha’ sitting at anchor just off Levkas town and hurled a few brief insults at Corinne and Claudio before getting in line to go through when the bridge opened.

This particular transit was made rather more interesting because our depth gauge decided to work only intermittently. The canal regularly silts up and has to be dredged; it is extremely important to stick to the buoyed route as depths elsewhere are very shallow. Indeed there were a number of excavators and large earth-carrying barges dotted along the length of the marked channel as we came through. The bridge opens on the hour for about five minutes so once the warning alarm goes all the boats jostle for position and try to get through as quickly as possible before the bridge starts to close again. Just after you get through the bridge the canal takes a sharp turn to starboard (right) as you head north and just as we got there we met a tug pulling an enormous barge in the opposite direction – not really what you want to meet on a tight bend!

Just one of several work platforms in the Levkas canal as we went through.

We made our way up to Preveza, following the buoys that mark the route round The town and through to the Gulf of Amvrakia, parts of which are very shallow. We anchored beyond the little marina in (yet another) Vathy Bay and next morning we took the dinghy ashore in search of fresh food. Spotted ‘Levitha’ once again, this time alongside on the town quay, so we had a coffee with them at one of the waterfront cafés before exploring the delights of Preveza.

Next day we headed into the Gulf of Amvrakikos. Having negotiated the narrow entrance to the Gilf we headed up into the north west ‘corner’ and dropped anchor. No-one and nothing much around. It was a grey day and the surrounding country (what we could see of it) is low lying. Throughout the Gulf there are sand bars and very shallow water so it was necessary to anchor several hundred metres offshore. It is a popular spot for migrating birds according to the pilot book but even they were notable by their absence. Can’t say we were overwhelmed by our first impressions.

Probably if we had had sunshine and blue skies we would have felt rather differently about Salaora Bay in the Gulf of Amvrakikos.

Next day we decided to head to Vonitsa on the southern coast.  We didn’t get any sailing in but we were visited, albeit briefly, by some dolphins who swam in the bow wave for a few minutes before heading on their way, leaping right out of the water with great exuberance as they swam off.  Always a magical sight!  Just as we were approaching the anchorage north west of Vonitsa the wind decided to kick off.  However we were delighted by the beautiful anchorage; this was much more like it!  We both had a swim but snorkelling was a pointless activity as the water visibility was almost nil, basically because the Gulf is a huge lagoon so full of micro-organisms.

 

“Rampage” at anchor in Markou Bay, Vonitsa

We stayed a few days in Markou Bay, taking the dinghy round to the town for re-supplies. It seemed quite a reasonable little town with a castle on the hilltop and quite good amenities so we decided that in due course, we would come in and spend some time in the harbour in order to get water and also to prepare ‘Rampage’ for lift out.

Looking down on Vonitsa from the castle. Note in the background, the little island linked by an isthmus to the mainland.

In the meantime, however, we thought we would go and explore the eastern end of the Gulf, so off we set. We tried to sail but the wind was flukey and kept fading and changing direction and then died away altogether so we gave up and motored. After four hours there was really very little to see; once again it was grey and empty. We knew from the pilot book that the harbours at the eastern end of the Gulf were too shallow for us and the anchorages were either inadvisable in anything other than very settled conditions or once again we would be anchoring several hundred metres from the shore in a wide, shallow bay. We came to the conclusion that we were burning diesel to no purpose and took the decision to return to Vonitsa. We did see dolphins again briefly on the return trip but they were far too busy to come and say hello. Shortly afterwards it started to rain. The rain grew steadily heavier and was accompanied by thunder and lightening. I had a moment of panic when Duncan requested his foul weather gear but thankfully found it fairly quickly and easily. He then nobly stayed up top while I took shelter below, passing up hot food and drinks to the hero at the helm! We had thought we would go straight into the harbour on our return, but because the weather was so foul Duncan said he’d go to the anchorage where he could anchor single-handed and I could stay dry.

The Skipper may look grumpy but in fact he was being a sweetheart and letting me stay dry while he stoically put up with the revolting weather!

Next morning we moved onto the pontoon and immediately started making preparations for lift out. We reckoned we wouldn’t need the dinghy again so it was hauled out of the water to dry off and be deflated and stowed.  Next day, the wind having dropped a fair bit, we hoisted the cruising chute to dry it off; it lives in a bag on deck so it had got wet in the recent rain. Having done that, since the wind had all but disappeared by this stage, we hoisted the mainsail to dry, prior to removing it. Taking the mainsail off is never easy (although putting it back is even worse because you have to remember where all the reefing lines go!). The big problem is frankly that it’s just so big and awkward to cope with in the limited space on deck. We tried a new technique this time: we dropped the sail into the stack pack, disengaging the cars from the mast as it came down, (so far no different from usual.). Then, having removed the reefing lines etc. we zipped up the stack pack and removed it with the sail inside, pulling it onto the foredeck like a giant, blue slug. Now I am sure many people have done this before us, but it was revolutionary as far as we were concerned as it kept the mainsail manageable while we got it off the boat, down the pontoon and across the road to a place where we could lay it out to be properly folded and bagged.

 

Drying off the cruising chute. (Note the blue stack pack on the boom that we later removed as a single item, together with the mainsail.)

Having packed up the mainsail, we dried and dropped the furling foresail. This is relatively straightforward, the only challenge was that just as we were doing this the wind decided that it had been quiet for long enough so we had a small struggle to make sure that the sail came down onto the deck and not into the water. By the time we had photographed the small areas of wear which Barry at Souix Sails will repair for us over the winter and then packed everything away, we were both unbelievably tired. We considered going out rather than cooking ourselves, but in the end couldn’t be bothered to do that. Finally, when faced with the prospect of bread and cheese for his evening meal, the Skipper felt sufficiently motivated to fry a couple of steaks which we ate and then went to bed shortly afterwards!

Evidence of wear on the foresail.

Next morning we thought we’d give ourselves a day off and having dropped off three loads of laundry at the Remezzo taverna who offered a washing service as a sideline from their usual business, Duncan and I walked up to the small castle above the town.  Like most of this part of the world, control of the town has passed back and forth from one conqueror to another.  In the case of Vonitsa this was particularly between the Turks and Venitians with the French muscling in for a while at the end of the 18th century.

 

The castle itself is better preserved than many others we’ve seen and commands wonderful views of the surrounding area.  Having looked around, we decided to go down and round the waterfront to a small island to the east of the town, which is linked to the mainland by a man-made causeway.  This causeway turned out to be rather remarkable since rather than being a level, or gently arched piece of road it zigzags up and down over a series of arches; I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anything quite like it before!

Vonitsa castle

When we arrived in Vonitsa we met a couple called Bob and Roe on a boat called “Mintaka”. They have been coming to Vonitsa for 10+ years so they know the town and many of the locals very well, not to mention quite a few other yachties who have also come here regularly for years. While we were chatting we learned that the owner of one of the boats in the harbour had recently died and Bob and Roe had undertaken to move her back to one of the yards in Preveza to be lifted. However, since “Waverley” had not moved for four years they were a bit anxious about her so we volunteered to act as an escort boat for the seven or eight miles back to the yard, ready to provide a tow, should it be necessary. In the event, the expedition passed without incident.

Among other friends that Bob and Roe have made are the family who ran Remezzo taverna at the head of the pontoon. It suddenly emerged that for various reasons, including a poor season this year they had decided to close and this was to be their final day. We joined Bob and Roe for a rather poignant meal that evening, as they all had so many happy, shared memories. At the end of the evening, Bob produced a bottle of whiskey and poured drinks for everyone in the taverna and all the family – about 20 of us in all. We toasted Bill, the erstwhile owner of “Waverley” and wished all the best to the family from the taverna, now all going their separate ways. Somehow, I don’t think coming back to Vonitsa will ever be quite the same for Bob and Roe in the future.

 

The waterfront at Vonitsa ( Taverna Remezzo with bright blue canopy supports,  to the right)

After that our time in Vonitsa has mostly been spent packing up the boat and preparing for our return to UK. This has included taking lots of measurements for the various projects we have planned for this winter, including making a rat-proof guard for the companionway and a new stack pack cover for the mainsail. You have seen pictures of “Rampage” being lifted before so I will bring this post to a close. Tomorrow, having picked up a one-way rental car, Duncan will take the sails down to Souix Sails and we will then drive to Igoumenitsa, catch the ferry to Corfu and spend the night aboard “Levitha” in Gouvia marina. On Friday we fly to UK.

This is our final post for this year. We will resume next April, when we will attempt a new format of shorter, more frequent posts which we hope will be more digestible for our readers.

Scruffy yet charming, Vonitsa is a maze of little, cobbled streets, dilapidated buildings, bright flowers and friendly people.

 

 

Liz Comes to Visit, Summer 2014

We had gone into Sami a few days before my sister was due to arrive, partly because some fairly strong winds were expected and partly because we wanted to be sure of getting a rental car to go and meet her, after our problems earlier this summer, trying to get a car to meet our previous visitors. This was the first time we had stayed in Sami, having been put off by tales from other people about the awful slopping noise of the sea water in the arches under the pontoon. (I can now say that we had no problem and slept soundly

while we were there; we berthed stern-to and sleep in the bow so our cabin was not close to the curiously designed pontoon but Liz reported no difficulties either and she was in one of the stern cabins). In addition, although Sami is not an especially picturesque little town, we decided we rather liked it. It is unpretentious with reasonable facilities within very easy walking distance, a string of tavernas along the waterfront and maybe best of all, no charges! We spent six nights there at the beginning of September plus a further four at the end of my sister’s visit and no-one took any interest in us or tried to charge us for either berthing or water. We were also able to have a diesel delivery while we were there.

Sami harbour

We managed a couple of lovely early morning walks in the hills above Sami befor Lizzie’s arrival, ostensibly to the ruins of the acropolis of ancient Sami, although actually the most impressive feature was the spectacular views down to modern-day Sami, up the coast of Kefalonia towards Fiskardo and across the water to Ithaca.

Liz had been briefed by a friend who visited Kefalonia some years ago and had a wishlist of places she wanted to see, so following a restorative cup of tea after her journey and while we still had use of the car, we set off to find Anti Samos beach. It was very attractive if rather busy for our tastes; I didn’t remember but Duncan tells me we anchored there once a few years ago. After pausing there briefly and wishing we’d brought swim things with us, we drove on up to the afore-mentioned acropolis to show off the views we’d discovered a few days earlier, before heading back to ‘Rampage’ and supper.

From the acropolis above Sami, looking north to the channel between Kefalonia on the left and Ithaca on the right as you look at the photo.

Our first stop after leaving Sami next morning was Port Leone on Kalamos. Liz was first in the water and soon reacquainted herself with the delights of snorkelling in warm, clear water. Later, having learned from our previous experience this summer of trying to have supper on the beach there while plagued by ants and wasps, we opted instead to barbecue on board – one of the bonuses of having a Cobb barbecue! (We actually ate most of our meals down below while Liz was with us because the wasps have been particularly abundant this summer and appear as soon as you emerge into the cockpit with so much as a glass of water. It was a bit of a shame but preferable to the alternative. We have in fact, made ourselves a wasp trap, as patented by our friends Nicky and Paul from ‘Carmel’ but although we have certainly collected lots of wasps in it, we are yet to be convinced that it reduces the number that still come to plague us. Indeed it may even attract more!)

 

The Carmel Wasp Trap, made from two sparkling water bottles and baited wth a mix of honey and water!

Next morning, Liz and I went for another snorkelling expedition and were so engrossed in looking at the clouds of tiny fish congregating under the jetty by the abandoned village there, that we narrowly escaped being mown down by a smallish trip boat that appeared unexpectedly and disgorged about 20 or 30 people clutching cameras, balloons and other paraphernalia. Having recovered from this excitement, we took a trip ashore ourselves to look at the remains of the village and were lucky enough to be able to see inside the little restored church. Duncan and I had been there while work was in progress a few years ago but since completion it is kept firmly locked except on certain days when services are held there. On this particular day however, it appeared that the people from the motorboat had come to celebrate a Christening there and while they packed away their bunting and prepared to depart, the priest invited us into look around. It is rather lovely because, unlike so many Greek churches, it is light and airy and relatively simple.

 

The interior of the restored little church at Port Leone, Kalamos.

Knowing that we needed to depart shortly, when we got back to ‘Rampage’ I thought we would go ahead and take the outboard off the dinghy.  I attached the hoist to the harness and told Liz to haul away.  Next moment there was a snap as the harness gave way and I just managed to clutch the outboard before it sank into 10+ metres of water!  I lay leaning out of the dinghy, cuddling the thing but unable to heave it out of the water until Duncan came to the rescue!  Having lifted it safely on board, he tried to get it going again but it was sulking after it’s unwanted immersion, so it was clear that he was going to have to take it to pieces.

 

Port Leone anchorage with the church up above on the small headland.

Day two was supposed to take us to Kastos for a couple of nights but while we were swimming, D had had an email from Barry at Souix Sails to say he wanted to do a fitting for our new sprayhood after the weekend, so this meant returning to Nidri. Thus we set off north instead and spent the next night at George’s near Little Vathi on Meganisi. We had a good sail up the channel between Kalamos and Meganisi but of course this didn’t charge the batteries so on arrival we were glad to be able to plug into shore power for the first time in three weeks. (The one downside of Sami is that there is no electricity available). George’s was much nicer on this occasion than when we visited with Peter and Pam in July; there were far fewer boats in so we were able to swim in peace, without running the gauntlet of kids in dinghies careering about near the beach. In addition, Duncan was able to sort out the outboard and we were able to give the batteries a good charge with the added bonus for Liz that she was able to use a hairdryer!

Self at George’s, Little Vathi, with the taverna and small beach behind.

She absolutely loved the trip round from Meganisi to Nidri next day, past the island of Scorpios, once owned by Onassis. In the still morning, the glassy water dotted with Islands and surrounded by the hills of Levkas and the mainland was utterly beautiful. It is all too easy to become blasé about the loveliness of this area and it was good to see it with fresh eyes.

Rather to our surprise since it was a weekend, we were able to get a space on the Sailing Holidays pontoon. This was a bonus because ever since my fiasco with the outboard when we were in Abelike (see post entitled Lynch Mob and dated 29 July ’14) I have been very wary of going off in the dinghy without Duncan. I seem to be able to start the thing okay when I set off but never for the return journey. That said, D tells me it is starting much better since its dunking in Port Leone …! Anyway, since we were on the pontoon, Liz and I were able to use the hotel pool for the next two days without having to be ferried there from the anchorage and meanwhile, Barry got on with the sprayhood.

Barry at work on our new spray hood.

While in Nidri, I took Liz on the first of several walks – this one up to Nidri waterfalls.  The walk was lovely although there wasn’t a great deal of water, despite the recent rainstorms and what there was turned out to be brown and muddy.  Nevertheless, the fall of water into the gorge from maybe 40 metres up is still fairly impressive.  On the second evening in Nidri, we went to eat at Ta Kalamia, the restaurant we discovered with Jax and Robbie, where there is no menu and the chef cooks whatever he feels like!  On this occasion we had some sea bass cooked to perfection plus various other dishes.  The staff are charming and it’s not outrageously expensive (€15 per head when ordering meat, €20 for fish and €25 for shellfish,) plus it makes an interesting change from the standard Greek menu of grilled meat or fish, stifado (a kind of meat stew) or moussaka.

Liz on our walk to Nidri Falls.

Liz had said she wanted a few days exploring Kefalonia so we knew we needed to be back in Sami shortly but were keen to take her to Kastos first.  Thus on Tuesday 9th September we set sail again.  We manage 20 minutes with the cruising chute before the wind built and swung round behind us so we did the rest of the journey on the headsail only.  On arrival, she and I had a wonderful time snorkelling; I produced some stale bread to take with us and once word got out in the fish community, we were mobbed.  I treasure the memory of my sister swimming along trailing crumbs, followed by an eager procession of fish, like some sort of underwater Pied Piper!  However this did make us rather late getting up to Chef John’s for supper so the light had nearly gone and we didn’t get the full benefit of the fabulous views up there.  We did, though, get a great welcome from Kyria Maria who came to chat to us for quite a while after she had finished in the kitchen, but sadly Liz was not able to sample Niko’s amazing home-made ice cream because of some problem with the machine.

Walking on Kastos

Next morning I took Liz off on the second of our walks together, round what is now for me, the familiar circuit of the northern end of Kastos.  We were thankful that we had headed up the eastern shore first which is rather more up and down and provides little in the way of shade.  We had set off rather later than planned so by the time we crossed the island to the western shore it was getting pretty hot!  We were very glad to go for another swim when we got back although the fish were clearly regretting having over-eaten the previous afternoon and were less enthusiastic about more stale bread.

We set off back to Sami at 12:30 that day, eating lunch en route.  The sea was flat calm all the way so there was no opportunity to sail, (rather to Lizzie’s relief,) but we did catch a a fairly quick glimpse of a lone dolphin just as we came along the south coast of Ithaca.  This is only the second sighting of a dolphin we have had this year and it was all too brief.

Poros harbour

We decided to head south on the first of our days with the car, partly because there is a circuit of geocaches in the village of Katelios so I thought we could incorporate a tour of the southern part of the island with a walk and an introduction to caching! We stopped first for coffee at a taverna overlooking the harbour at Poros which was peaceful and largely empty. We then made an abortive detour up into the hills looking for a cache above Skala. We were fairly sure it was hidden at the base of an olive tree but the landowner had clearly not bought into the business of geocaching and there was very sturdy fencing and a padlocked gate preventing access. Instead we headed on to Katelios and managed to find all the caches although it was rather hot to take a walk in the middle of the day and we were glad to find a little taverna near the seashore to rest and have a cold drink when we’d finished.

The bell tower near where we stopped for our picnic on our walk around Katelios.

As we left Katelios the clouds started to gather and the weather grew more and more ominous as we made our way back over the mountains to Sami.  We got back just in time to bring in cockpit cushions and close hatches before the heavens opened!  Torrential rain plus lots of sheet lightening besieged us for the next couple of hours.  Thankfully there was not much movement of the boat inside the harbour but it was quite alarming enough for my sister experiencing her first storm on board a small sailing boat!

Next day it was bright and sunny once more and we set off north west via Agios Efimia to Assos.  The usual road is closed due to a landslide last winter so we were diverted up over the mountains on tiny, switchback roads, but the views were glorious so it was worth the extra miles.  Assos was as enchanting as ever and Liz, who you will have gathered by now is a reasonably energetic soul, was keen to walk up to the ruined castle on the pinnacle of rock that joins Assos by means of a short causeway.  Once again it was the middle of the day, so she and I had a hot climb to admire the views while the Skipper wisely sat in a shady taverna (no, not that sort!) down in the tiny village square.  Afterwards, to cool off, we swam from the little cove at the base of the rock and ate our picnic on the beach before heading on to Fiskardo, the last item on her wishlist of places to see.

 

Looking down on the village at Assos as we walked up to the castle.

Saturday 13th saw us heading back to the airport at Argostoli and waving farewell. We so enjoyed Lizzie’s visit; there were a lot of laughs and I think she was able to thoroughly relax and recharge her own batteries before returning to the busy life she leads, running a gastro pub near Faversham with her partner, another chef called John!

The following day we made our way to Kioni on Ithaka, a first for us, to meet up with Steve and Linda on ‘Tantrum’. We had agreed to meet after an exchange of emails and were delighted to find them already in the harbour with a berth waiting for us next door to them. We had supper out that evening and had a great time exchanging gossip. As strong winds were expected we knew we would stay for a couple of days so, leaving ‘Rampage’ under Steve’s watchful eye, D and I rented yet another vehicle and went off to find the caches on Ithaca and discovered what a beautiful and unspoilt island it is with amazing views from the hilltops.

Looking down onto Vathi Bay, Ithaca

We then headed back to Nidri for hopefully the last time this summer to take delivery of our brand new sprayhood and meet up with our friends Claudio and Corinne who were anchored in Tranquil Bay. We had supper on board ‘Levitha’, catching up on a year’s worth of news. They have very kindly offered us a bed for the night before we fly back to UK at the beginning of October; it’s good to know we’ll be seeing them again very soon. In the meantime, we are now anchored on Palairos Bay and plan to head on, through the Levkas canal today, to explore the Gulf of Amvrakikos.

‘Levitha’ in Tranquil Bay, Nidri as we set off to Palairos.

 

BATI 2

Well, as the title of this latest post suggests, we have mostly just been Bimbling About The Ionion and to be honest there isn’t a great deal to relate.We managed to get the pushpit fixed by “Stainless Steel Phil” as he is known in these parts.  He did a good job and didn’t charge a fortune.  The kedge anchor, which is aluminium, D has managed to bend back more or less into shape and assures me that it has not compromised its ability to hold us.  The outboard requires a new lower casing but we will replace that in the UK over the winter.  In the meantime the soldiers’ friend, bodge tape aka gaffer tape, covers the hole.

“Rampage” stern quarter all repaired and back to normal.

We mentioned at the end of the last post that Barry from Souix Sails had not been able to make the pattern for our new sprayhood.  However the following day he decided that, there being no wind, he could manage the job.  What a nightmare of a job it was for him, poor man working in full sun for four hours.  All the shade pieces had to be removed as they got in the way leaving just the bimini to protect him but as the sun rose through the day the area of shade reduced down to little more than a pocket handkerchief.  We kept out of the way down below, aside from offering regular drinks.  As the pattern, which is made of polythene, began to take shape, the problem was compounded as Barry created his own private greenhouse.  Having satisfied himself (and his wife who will supervise the actual production of the new sprayhood,) that he had everything correct, he thankfully took his leave of us, having confessed that this was normally a job they would tackle in the winter.  Their main priority through the summer season is naturally sail repairs so there is no certainty as to when they may be able to actually make the new sprayhood but we have stayed and will continue to stay in the area until mid September, just in case they manage to get the work done and need us to come for a “fitting!”

The pattern for the new sprayhood takes shape

Most of the rest of our time has been divided between the beautiful anchorage of Abelike on Meganisi and Nidri/Vlikho where we have had to go for repairs, supplies etc.  We spent some time on the Neilson pontoon which is only 10 euros per night and enables us to refill our water tanks and recharge the batteries from shore power.  One day we ran into (figuratively not literally!) Dave and Michelle from “Alhambra” whom we originally met in Messolonghi in 2011 and had a very enjoyable evening with them at the pool bar of the Athos hotel, just at the foot of the Neilson pontoon.  Towards the end of the evening our friends, Jax and Robbie turned up, having also come onto the same pontoon.  Jax and I then spent afternoons in the Athos hotel pool until we moved back once more to Abelike.

Jax by the pool at the Armonia hotel – see later below.

It was while there that disaster struck again – twice!  First of all, the display on Duncan’s iPad suddenly and for no apparent reason, went peculiar, rendering it useless.  We had not realised just how much we use the thing until we didn’t have it anymore: weather, email, banking, Skype, games – you name it.  We were bereft.  And then one morning after a pleasant swim, I found a small black object on the floor of the saloon – and then another – and another.  We had a RAT on board.  After a short search, Duncan located it in the locker in front of the chart table.  He then discovered that I really do have a phobia about rats for as he tried to whack it with the lid of the locker, I shot out through the hatch in our cabin in utter panic and retreated to another boat, shaking.  Unable to catch it, he eventually he persuaded me to return to “Rampage” so we could move back to Nidri and find me a hotel.  He realised I had been utterly seriously when I’d told him in the past that if we ever had a rat on board I would need to move ashore until it was caught.

He set a trap, baited with peanut butter which we’d reliably been informed is irresistable  to rats and having put in the washboards so that there was no danger of it joining us in the cockpit, we made our way back to Vlikho Bay.  The poor man was clearly wondering just how protracted a hotel stay he might have to fork out for, but as we anchored I heard noise below and our rat was caught.  A record I feel.  Now if you are fond of rodents then I am sorry to have to tell you that we threw the thing into the water where it proceeded to swim, to my horror.  It took two attacks with the boathook before the thing was dead, and as you will have guessed by now, I was fairly traumatised by the whole episode.  I had known of course, that rats can run along shorelines – their balance is pretty phenomenal and it was only a question of time before this happened.  I think my beloved had hoped that I would be rather more pragmatic, but still.  We were both relieved to have dealt with it so speedily because, quite aside from anything else, rats can do untold damage to the wiring and electrics on a boat.

After this episode, we decided we’d have a change of scene and go to visit our friends, Paul and Nicky aboard “Carmel” who were holed up in Big Vathi on Ithaca waiting for a parcel to arrive.   We had a great sail down there but unfortunately the wind was as bad as ever when we arrived in the anchorage.  We waved to Nicky and Paul but none of us felt like venturing in a dinghy to meet up.  After a very uncomfortable night and very little sleep, we both decided to leave again the next morning.  Because of the configuration of the hills there, Vathi is always windy and uncomfortable in our experience and frankly we just don’t like it there for that reason.  Once away from the bay, the wind disappeared and we were obliged to motor all the way back to Vlikho. We did eventually manage to meet up with Paul and Nicky in Vlikho and went for a meal together at the Sea Side restaurant on the east shore of the bay.  It was great to catch up at last, although Paul may think twice before offering anyone else a ride in their very speedy dinghy; my extra weight on the bow meant that as he slowed down, the water rushed in and we all got rather wet.  We also managed to catch a small crab and Paul then discovered that his wife is almost as alarmed by crusteans as I am by rats!

David and Duncan aboard “Souris Rose”

Friends from our winter in Sant Carles de la Rapita came to anchor in Abelike one day.  We knew that Gill and David aboard Souris Rose were in the area and had even seen them in the distance so it was nice to get together for a few hours.  They very kindly invited us aboard for drinks which turned into lunch and in addition refilled our dive cylinders since they have a compressor on board.  We are most grateful to them and once again, it was lovely to catch up with all the news and gossip!

Gill and Duncan on the after (poop) deck of “Souris Rose” with “Rampage” in the background.

Stainless Steel Phil needed us to be on a pontoon so we spent several days on the pontoon linked to the Armonia Hotel, (the Neilson pontoon having no space at that point,) where we were joined once more by Jax and Robbie in “Springdawn” since they too were having work done by Phil.  Naturally Jax and I checked out the pool at the Armonia every afternoon.  We’ve all become firm friends having shared various meals, many laughs and gone for the occasional evening foray for ice creams!

Enjoying a fabulous meal out with Jax and Robbie in Nidri. There is no menu; you either order meat or fish and the chef “does his own thing!”

In mid-August I abandonned the Skipper and went to visit my daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren in Ireland.  It so happened that they had booked a holiday house in Donegal where Ken’s mother grew up.  This was exciting as we have heard so much about it and seen so many beautiful photos of Donegal over the years and sure enough I had a wonderful time there with them.  The weather was mixed but we had some great days on the fabulous, clean, white sandy beaches and walking up headlands to admire the cliffs and spectacular scenery.  I understand why they love it there so much.  There was lots of fun and laughter but I particularly enjoyed Lily’s relief that Granny didn’t wet the bed when we shared a bed the first night!  Also amusing was 9 year old Charlie’s remark having caught two mackeral, to his disgusted father who’d caught nothing, “Well you don’t have my special technique!”  8 year old Jess was her usual, sunny self, making the peace and keeping everyone happy including teaching Granny to make loom band bracelets, the latest craze to sweep UK and Ireland (and possibly many other places but not yet Greece as far as I am aware.)

Lily, Jess and Charlie all win medals at the local sports day in Glencolmcille, Donegal.

We had berthed once again on a pontoon in Nidri in order to pick up a rental car.  D drove me up the coast to Igoumenitsa where I caught a ferry across to Corfu and the flight to Ireland.  He remained on the pontoon for a few days but at the weekend he was obliged to leave as the Neilson charter boats were due in for changeover.  He anchored in Vlikho but as luck would have it, there was quite a lot of wind (40 knots or so) and he was obliged to sleep in the passage berth and mount an anchor watch, having watched Souris Rose drag on hers.  I did illustrate just why he is not prepared to leave “Rampage” at anchor if we go away.

My lovely friend, Jax, with whom I have spend so many happy hours this summer.

We saw Jax and Robbie once more last week en route back from Igoumenitsa at the end of my trip to Ireland.  They were in Ionian, one of the three Preveza yards, doing vital work to the hull of “Springdawn”.  We wanted to check out the yards ourselves as we shall have “Rampage” lifted this winter and return to the UK for various family reasons.

Right now we are on Kastos again; we plan to walk up the hill shortly to Chef John’s to do lots laundry while we enjoy a meal, admire the view and possibly indulge in their amazing ice-cream.  My sister arrives next week so the next post will be after her visit.

Just one picture of the fabulous scenery in Donegal – there were so many that it was really hard to choose!

Lynch Mob

Little Vathi harbour

The last blog left you about a week before Pete and Pam Lynch arrived for their visit. We spent that week doing a bit more BATI before mooring in Agios Efimia on 16 July, the day before their arrival, blithely intending to hire a car to cross the island to pick them up from Argostoli airport, before heading off to cruise round the islands during their stay.

The quayside at Ag Efimia (Rampage just right of centre with blue boom tent)

Things did not go as planned. 16 July is the middle of the first week of what is best thought of as The Busy Season out here. Very busy season. Packed out season. There wasn’t a car to be had in Efimia, nor was there one available via telephone enquiries to the next port south, Sami. Nothing deterred us in our quest for some sort of vehicle to pick up Pete and Pam, so instead we hired a scooter and headed off down to Sami to quiz the folks there face to face. Luck was with us and we managed to get Avis to rent us a car for the following day; the only downside was having to take it back there on the Friday morning.

Fishing boat in Fiskardo

Moved by this experience, we decided the sensible thing to do would be to go immediately to our final port of call, Fiskado, and book a car that evening for Pete and Pam’s return trip to the airport the following week. The crowds in Fiskado shocked us somewhat, as we’ve never been there during the height of the season but thankfully we were able to book a car with the ever ebullient Maria, then headed back to Rampage to take things easy.

Next day, having picked up the car in Sami, we made our way across to Argostoli, the main town on the island of Kefalonia. We did a massive Lidl shop and then had time for lunch before Peter and Pam arrived.

In the cave at Melissani Lake

We stopped en route back to the boat as they suddenly noticed signs for Melissani Lake, just outside Sami. Friends of theirs had told them that Melissani is one of the Must See places on Kefalonia. The water in the lake is remarkable; sea water enters sink holes on the far side of the island near Argostoli, travels underground and mixes with fresh water to become brackish and two weeks later emerges above sea level in a magnificent cave full of stalactites and stalagmites so we took a short boat trip round the cave before continuing on to Efimia. It was great to be able to welcome Pete and Pam back on board Rampage; they boat sat for us a few years ago when we flew to UK for Polly and Tommy’s wedding.

Pete takes the helm on our first sail from Kefalonia to Kalamos

After a great night catching up on gossip and making plans, we decided to head to Port Leone on Kalamos as our first stop. Going via Sami to return the hire car (J drove the car, I moved the boat) we set off into the usual windless Ionian morning. About midday, the wind started to fill from the north west and we had a cracking sail across to Kastos, stopping en route at the uninhabited island of Atokos to get a cache there before arriving in Port Leone.

The uninhabited island of Atakos

No sooner had we arrived than Pete, eager to help, somehow lost his balance on the sugarscoop, (aft end of the boat.) Next thing we knew he was in the water, testing the temperature for the rest of us, and also the water resistance capabilities of his watch! It wasn’t long before the rest of us joined him, albeit rather more conventionally clad for a swim! That evening we had a barbecue ashore on a rather ant and wasp infested beach – shan’t go there again in a hurry.

Pete takes lines ashore

Next morning, keen to prove his nautical credentials after the debacle the previous evening, Pete volunteered to recover the shore lines. This he duly did without incident, but clambering back onto the stern of Rampage, he had a rush of blood to the head and let go of the dinghy painter. While the rest of us were still registering the fact that the dinghy was now gently floating off, Pam, who had been very cautious to enter the water the previous evening, leapt in and rescued said dinghy before it could go far, thereby displaying great presence of mind.

Rampage on the stub quay at Kastos

By now, Pete was experiencing ice cream withdrawal symptoms. I should explain. When Pete holidays in warm places, there is an absolute requirement for at least one ice cream per day. Thursday was fine: we found a nice place in Efimia. Friday was not good – Port Leone is uninhabited (their spring died in the 1953 earthquake) and therefore there was no ice cream to be had. However we had told Pete and Pam of our discovery of wonderful, home made soft ice cream at Chef John’s on Kastos, so that was where we headed on Saturday morning, (solely for the ice cream, you understand!)

Pam takes the helm on a rather quieter day!

Pam helmed the boat for most of the journey, a new experience for her made easier by the total lack of wind. Arriving in Kastos around middle day, we found our favourite place on the stub quay free, so moored there. That afternoon, we walked up to Chef John’s to satisfy Pete’s craving for ice cream before returning to the boat to play Mexican Train and barbecue chicken souvlaki on the quayside. A more successful barbecue that evening!

Ice cream up at Chef John’s Restaurant

Pete and Pam share a birthday, which is 20 July so Sunday was their special day and we’d booked a berth at George’s on Little Vathi, (Meganisi.) After a good breakfast with fresh bread from the island shop, we left under motor for Meganisi. As we set our course to round the northern end of Kalamos, I noticed a boat behind us and realised it was Spring Dawn with Robbie and Jax aboard. They were headed to Vlikho but it was decided we’d stop for lunch and a swim in a cove on Kalamos.

Meeting up with Spring Dawn for a swim and drinks en route to Meganisi

As Pete said, it was slightly surreal to be swimming and treading water as we made introductions and chatted. After a swim we all came aboard Rampage for a drink or two before parting company. George’s at Little Vathi, as is common at this time of year, was packed out. We had a pleasant meal to celebrate Pete and Pam’s birthday but were glad to move round the corner to our favourite Abelike bay the following morning.

Pam relaxing in the infamous Blue Rubber Ring (which just takes up so much space once inflated!) Abelike Bay, Meganisi

While we were on Kastos, J had introduced Pam to the delights of snorkling and a great deal of time was spent peering under the water while feeding the fish with bits of bread and pieces of ham. Pam was most put out later that evening to see the guy in the next boat along capitalising on this and busily fishing!

Snorkling in Kastos!

After some discussion, we decided to go back down to Kastos on Tuesday before heading to Fiskado on Wednesday. The wind gods smiled on us with a brisk southerly wind as we left Meganisi, which let us tack our way down to Kastos, although the last few miles were done on the motor as the wind died away, leaving a nasty choppy sea. We were luck to find space inside the harbour, as the anchorage was too rolly to be comfortable. Indeed, one particularly persistent boat took some real persuasion not to try forcing its way next to us onto the already crowded quay. That evening we had a wonderful supper that night at Chef John’s where J and I are in danger of becoming regulars….

The view from Chef John’s

Sadly we had to motor all the way back from Kastos to Kefalonia. Fiskado was as crowded as we’d seen it the previous week, so we moored well outside the harbour with long lines ashore. Later we had to reset the anchor as we’d been too hurried dropping it the first time and didn’t have enough chain out; on the second attempt we ran out of chain and almost had to do it all again….. J, Pete and Pam had an afternoon exploring Fiskado and buying presents for their children whilst I had a snooze.

Pam looking lovely!

That evening we went to a new (to us) restaurant looking down into the harbour. It called Nicolas’s Taverna and the host is larger than life, very friendly and welcoming. The food was excellent but as the night went on the clouds that had threatened all day seemed to solidify. Pete made a hasty trip back to the boat and shut the hatches just before the thunder, lightening and rain arrived: cue much scuttling about moving tables into shelter and eventually into the main room of the restaurant. Nicolas was great, producing jackets and table cloths to wrap chilled ladies in and all the while the service carried on through the chaos. We finished the evening having Tia Marias and Metaxas with coffee before plunging into the darkness and renewed rain to find out way back along a dark and muddy footpath to Rampage. We had to tip the dinghy over to empty it of water before we could use it to get back on board. A memorable last evening for Pete and Pam, particularly Pam whose hatch Pete had overlooked, resulting in a somewhat damp bed!

Pam (in borrowed jacket) with Duncan up at Nicolas’s Taverna

The next morning we had to head back to the airport. For the first part of the journey we had to use the eastern coast road, as the western one with its amazing views is closed at present due to a landslip caused by the earthquake earlier this year. However we then cut across the island and used the western coastal route south of Myrtos Beach so as to show Pete and Pam some of the coastline along that side of the island. After lunch at a little place by the airport, watching planes land and take off, we bade them a fond farewell in a crowded little airport peopled by bewildered tourists and bossy types in Thompson uniforms.

Pete relaxing aboard Rampage

 

Since we had last had a car on Kefalonia, a number of new caches have been put out on the island,so we took the opportunity to visit them on the way back to the boat. We found three round Argostoli, one overlooking the airport and another two near to Sami. We placed some travel bugs and collected another three as we went, so a good day’s caching.

Since the departure of Peter and Pam, life has not been without incident. We originally planned to return to Kastos because Chef John’s now has three splendid washing machines. However, halfway there we changed course as the wind was more favourable to go to Abelike and we knew there were machines at the taverna there.

The tavena garden at Abelike, Meganisi

Accordingly, next day, J set off in the dinghy with a massive load of laundry whilst I tackled the speed log, which has developed a slight leak; nothing serious but enough to try to stop it. J then couldn’t get the outboard to start for the return trip and to compound the problem the starboard rowlock decided to come unstuck so she phoned me for help. It took a hot, scratchy push through dense undergrowth to get up to the dirt track after a swim ashore, then a long walk round the head of the bay to join her. After a large, ice cold beer to console me, we made our way back to Rampage after I’d threatened the outboard with being used as an anchor if it didn’t behave itself.

Next day we went together with the remainder of the washing, and while we were sitting quietly in the taverna garden reading our books, an evil wasp, (there are a great many about this year, due, we are told, to the mild winter,) snuck in between J’s foot and her sandal and stung her fairly comprehensively when she, all unwitting, stepped down on it. Much excitement ensued and she sat for a while with a piece of lemon and a lump of ice on her foot, missing only the gin to make her feel it was worth all the discomfort.

Big hole in outboard casing

Yesterday we moved to Vlikho Bay on Levkas, as Barry from Sioux Sails wanted to to start the process of making a pattern for our new sprayhood. We were woken at around 02:30 this morning by a loud thump. We both rushed up on deck but could see nothing, only the sound of a high speed engine heading towards Vliho Yacht Club giving any clue as to the cause. Unable to see any damage, we assumed at the time that what we had heard and felt was the wash from a fast moving vessel. This morning however, we realised that something had driven over our dinghy leaving blue, anti-foul skid marks and bashing a hole in the outboard casing before hitting the pushpit on our port stern quarter, distorting it considerably and completely redesigning the kedge anchor. It is not yet clear whether the toe rail has been damaged at all. Suffice to say we have had a jolly time with the Port Police, making a formal statement for the insurance claim. Barry was unable to work on the sprayhood today either, as it was far too windy, so we must hope that tomorrow our luck will improve. This evening we hope to meet up with Jax and Robbie at Vliho Yacht Club for a cider and drown our sorrows…

Bent kedge (spare) anchor

BATI

This is not the name of a new island or village that we have recently visited, but what we’ve been doing for the past three weeks: Bimbling About The Ionian!

Since waving farewell to Linda and Stephen aboard “Tantrum”, we have yoyo’d between Nidri/Vliho on Levkas, ‘Big’ Vathi on Ithaca and Meganisi plus a visit to Kastos, sometimes on our own but also meeting up with various friends and making a few new ones. None of the above places are new to us although we have learned new and useful facts about most of them: for example there are no ATMs on Meganisi so when you run out of cash you have to leave!

Rampage on the Neilson Charter Boat pontoon at Nidri, Levkas

Our visits to Vliho and Nidri are always for business rather than pleasure. Nidri has several chandleries, cashpoints, decent shops, a laundry etc etc. Indeed there is not much we cannot get there. Vliho, just down the coast is famous for the Vliho Yacht Club. Now this is not a yacht club like any other you may know; indeed the grandiose title should not fool you. It is actually a taverna that offers Brit delicacies such as fish ‘n chips plus showers, washing machines, and an impressively large bookswap. For us though, and for many others, the big attraction is that they are willing to receive and hold post for us water gypsies. This is invaluable to us through the summer when we have no other postal address and thus it was that we loaded the minimal dinghy one evening with an enormous brown parcel containing three new solar panels. These were to replace those we previously had on the deck which D had scavenged from a dumpster 18 months ago in Messolonghi and which had given up the ghost.

The downside of both Nidri and Vliho Bay however is that the water is filthy. Why? Well, to be brutal because of a large number of shore-based and boat sewage discharges. Vliho Bay sits at the head of a long, large inlet so there is no real circulation of water and there are a number of boats that are lived aboard all year round and which never move. Usually the water is crystal clear in this part of the world so the murky depths here are the exception rather than the rule but after J had a very traumatic experience one day while swimming in Tranquil Bay (the anchorage opposite Nidri,) neither of us will consider swimming and the salt water tap is also out of commission while we’re there! You have to understand that these are considerable drawbacks because in the heat of summer, being able to throw one’s body into the water on a regular basis is one of the factors that makes life here pleasant. In addition use of the salt water tap enables us to spin out our 270 litres of fresh water to last somewhere between 10 days and two weeks!

Looking north up the coast of Nidri this morning, (it’s rather overcast here this morning.)

As I write this however, we have broken with tradition, and today we are tied up on one of the charter boat pontoons at Nidri. This is a first for us, having always free anchored here before but for just €10 a night we have 240 volt shore-power to boost the battery bank, fresh water for refilling the tanks and washing the boat and joy of joys, access to the hotel pools along the shore. I have discovered that most of the hotels are happy to let visiting yachties use their pool for the price of a drink or two at their pool bar. But enough of the somewhat uninspiring delights of the resort that is Nidri.

Walking to Little Vathi from the anchorage at Abelike

Meganisi is the next island east and we can be at Spartachori, Little Vathi or Abelike Bay within about an hour of leaving Nidri. All these are delightful bays along the north coast of Meganisi which has a beautiful, crinkle-cut coastline full of pretty bays, small villages and isolated little tavernas, catering largely to the water-borne visitors. We told you about Abelike in our previous post; we went there with Linda and Steven. On our next visit, I got chatting to the English ex-pat lady in the motorboat next to us and learned that just round the headland and well tucked out of sight are two small tavernas. The first is pretty basic but the shady, flower-filled garden is a lovely place to sit and have a beer and watch the sun go down. The second is more upmarket and quite an acceptable place to have a meal. Both offer washing machines, book swaps, access to a water tap for filling water carriers plus there are large rubbish disposal bins which saves hiking up over the hill to Little Vathi carrying all the rubbish. Nonetheless, we do make the effort to do the walk most days because Little Vathi is the nearest village and source of fresh food. It does not however, have either an ATM (see above) or a butcher. This latter was resolved, however, by the resourceful lady running one of the general stores who phones meat requirements through to the butcher in the next village. She then sends you off to have a coffee whilst the butcher delivers the meat about 15 minutes later.

Abelike Bay, Meganisi

On one visit to Abelike we met up with our friends Robbie and Jax on “Springdawn” and D helped them take long lines ashore – a technique they’d not tackled before. As it happened, D was happy to break away from the task of replacing the solar panels. Removing the old adhesive from the stippled deck was a complete nightmare and the job took us a day and a half to finish. With Jax and Robbie we had a lovely barbecue on the beach and sat chatting until it got dark, before retiring for a night cap aboard “Springdawn”. On our next visit to Abelike we found the tavernas and we were able to take our friends Brian and Rose when they joined us after a couple of days.

Duncan, (in the dinghy) helps Brian and Rose aboard “Alixora” to take lines ashore in Abelike.

The next day we were joined by other friends of theirs, Gill and John aboard there steel-hulled ketch, “Petronella”. Rose had persuaded Gill that it would be a fine thing to make one of the splendid curries for which she is justifiably famous and to include us in the invitation. This Gill duly did which was incredibly noble in view of the fact that she’d never even met us! We had a splendid evening and a wonderful meal aboard “Petronella” that night.

Evening picnic on the beach at Abelike with (from left to right,) Rose, Brian, Duncan, Gill and John

Two days later we all sailed down to Big Vathi; D and I we down to our last few euros, Gill and John were due to meet up with a Turkish friend, (of whom more later,) and the others fancied a change of scene. This was our second visit to Big Vathi this year. The first time, D and I were on our own and I had a happy time (not!) giving our cabin a thorough clean including the head lining, under the bed slats etc. This burst of energy was prompted because Duncan had needed to replace the pipe to the forward water tank which involved removing our bed mattresses and all the storage beneath our bed in order to gain access to the water tank. Having emptied the cabin it seemed a good opportunity to spring clean.

“Rampage” in Big Vathi

On that visit too, we also attempted to look for a cache which is located on the north coast of the bay about two kilometres out of the town. Foolishly we left it a bit late to set off so that by the time we arrived at the location it was too dark, even with the aid of a torch, to search for the cache. Vowing to look again next time we returned we abandoned the hunt but had a very pleasant walk along the coast road in the cool of the evening.

The highlight of our second visit to Big Vathi was meeting Dilek, a redoubtable Turkish lady who plans to be the first Turkish woman to do a single-handed transatlantic crossing. She had sailed from Turkey to Ithaca in three weeks in the company of her very justifiably self-confident son, Deniz, and the two of them joined the rest of us for a meal out that evening. Dilek and Deniz regaled us with wonderful tales of sailing and life in Turkey. We had lots to chat about as Dilek comes from and has spent most of her life in Izmir, where we lived for three years in the early 1990s. We have met very few single-handed yachtswomen and as a Turkish woman Dilek is even more unusual and remarkable. We wish her fair winds and safe travels on her trip for which she has taken a sabbatical of about a year and persuaded her company to provide some sponsorship. If you wish to read more about Dilek and her transatlantic trip please go to www.rotaatlantik.com In addition, Dilek sponsors four young girls from very poor Turkish families through their education up to age 18. This will be very hard for her to maintain while she is on her sabbatical. Her company have undertaken to support one of the girls but she is hoping to raise 200,000 euros in further sponsorship to support the other three. If you would like to contribute to this extremely valuable cause, you can make a donation directly to the foundation at www.darussafa.org

Dinner with Dilek and Deniz, (apologies for the view of my back, this is still the best photo we have of that evening!)

We never did go back to look for that cache in daylight.

The other place we have visited in the last 3 weeks is Kastos. This is one of our favourite islands and we spent several days there. Jax and Robbie had mentioned in their blog that Chef John’s restaurant, high on the hill above the tiny harbour, now proudly boasts 3 large washing machines and 3 dryers. This is utterly amazing, and far more than is warranted by the visiting yachts but we were happy to make the walk up the hill with our wash load, particularly since by using the laundry facilities we were presented with a 15% discount voucher towards a meal at Chef John’s restaurant. This we look forward to using when we are joined by UK visitors in just over a week from now, since the views from Chef John’s are second to none.

In honour of the Kastos Ramblers Club

One morning while we were on Kastos, we rose early and went for a longish walk all round the northern end of the island, partly in tribute to the Kastos Ramblers Club which we formed with our dear friends Andy and Susan Mills. We made the tactical error of going the wrong way round; ie we started by heading north up the western coast looking across the straits to Port Leone and Kalamos. By the time we started back down the eastern coast, it was 08:15 and starting to get warm. There is little shade on the eastern side and by 09:30 as we got back to Kastos harbour the sun was blazing down on us and we could hardly wait to get into the sea to cool off.

We made more new friends while on Kastos; as we took the shore lines for a yacht coming in to berth next to us we recognised the yacht name: “Scath” and realised they were friends of Andy and Susan so we duly invited them to join us that evening for a drink aboard “Rampage”. We extended the invitation to other Brits, Ruth and Clive aboard “Mr Whiskers” and a “pre-dinner” drink lasted until well after dark. Another great evening.

“Scath” tied up next door to “Rampage” in Kastos harbour

So that’s about it. We plan to return to Abelike tomorrow, ‘cos it’s just so nice there, frankly and hope to rejoin Jax and Robbie at some point. Peter and Pam Lynch arrive from UK at the end of next week so our next post will probably be after their visit.

Consulting the Oracle

Well actually we didn’t – we took the decision before going to Delphi! What decision? Well the thorny matter of where to stay next winter but more of that anon.

We left Kastos on 27th July together with “Curly Sue” and headed south away from the increasingly crowded Ionian islands and down towards the Gulfs of Patras and Corinth. We didn’t go far that first day and by lunchtime we were both tucked up snug and sound in a very protected anchorage on the Greek mainland called Petalas Bay. We’d chosen the anchorage advisedly because of strong winds predicted for the afternoon and sure enough it started to blow not long after we arrived. The holding was excellent so neither of us had a problem but when Duncan and I made our way over to join Susan and Andy that evening we all agreed that the planned barbecue on the back of “Curly Sue” was probably not the best idea so Susan retreated down below to cook in the galley while the wind howled round us and we watched more and more yachts hastening into the relatively calm waters of the anchorage. Eventually the wind dropped and we were able to admire the clearest, starriest night sky we’ve seen for some time, the Milky Way making a broad sweep above us, undimmed by light pollution.

The following day we continued south, and then, rounding Oxia Island turned into the Gulf of Patras. The Gulfs of Patras and Corinth divide the north coast of the Peloponnese from mainland Greece; they are linked by the Rio-Antirio Strait and lead on to the Corinth Canal and thence into the Aegean. We were not planning to go through the Canal at this stage but Duncan and I plan to come back that way later in the year. In the meantime it was nice to explore new territory. The north coast of the Gulf of Patras is mostly low lying with salt marshes and sandbanks so it is necessary to keep well clear of the coastline. We reached Mesolongi marina by mid-afternoon, following a 2 ½ mile dredged channel marked by buoys. As you turn into the channel is the little village of Tourlis where all the wooden buildings are on stilts and the local people use flat bottomed dories to fish the lagoon. The village is linked to the town of Mesolongi by a causeway that runs parallel to the dredged channel.

Houses on stilts in the salt marshes near Mesolongi

We, like probably everyone else in the liveaboard community, had heard various dubious reports about Mesolongi marina so we had no particular expectations; it was merely a convenient stopping point where we could buy provisions, take on water etc. The marina is about 20 minutes walk outside the town so Duncan and I decided to dig out the bicycles in order to explore. We were agreeably surprised by the town which turned out to be very attractive with reasonable amenities. When we had booked into the marina earlier in the afternoon we had been offered a quote for the winter months and were taken aback by how very much cheaper it was than Gouvia marina on Corfu where we spent last winter. This gave us pause for thought as one way and another we had a very expensive time last winter and this would help our deficit-reduction plan! We mulled things over during the next couple of days, debating the pros and cons together with Susan and Andy.

In the meantime, after filling the forward water tank, Duncan decided to check the bilges under our bed and discovered that we had a veritable swimming pool going on. Regular readers to this blog may recall that he spent a considerable time whilst in Barcelona 18 months ago, trying without success to resolve a persistent leak from the forward tank. In the end we gave up and resorted to using the forward tank as little as possible and baling it out as necessary; now though, matters were much more serious. Having dried out the bilges as much as possible we noted that the tank didn’t appear to be emptying and therefore came to the conclusion the problem had to be with either the intake or the breather hose. J was therefore dispatched by bicycle to the chandlery in town with instructions regarding the length and diameter of hoses required while Duncan struggled to remove the old ones. She had a second expedition to town but in due course the new hoses were installed and he felt a quiet glow of satisfaction as the tank filled with no sign of leakage down the pipes.

The following day, we set off with Curly Sue in the direction of a little place called Nafpaktos. This lies on the northern shore of the Gulf of Corinth, a few miles east of the Rio – Antirio Bridge. We were all a little nervous about approaching the bridge for the first time, as it has a traffic control scheme in palace. When you’re 5 miles away, you call the traffic control centre and ask for permission to transit the bridge. You’re then allocated a channel to use and told to call again at 1 mile out. All very official and not at all what us yachties are used to. The bridge itself is magnificent; its 2.8km long and is the longest ‘cable stayed’ bridge in the world. It’s visible from miles away and we expected to be directed to the southern channel so positioned ourselves on that side of the strait and called up the control centre. Their response was a little broken but we understood what we had to do and made a successful passage; swapping places with “Curly Sue” as we went under the bridge so as to get pictures of both boats with the bridge in the background.

The Rio-Antirio Bridge

Nafpaktos turned out to be a VERY tiny little place with no room for us to get in there at all and, as the wind was building, nowhere sufficiently sheltered nearby to anchor. So we resorted to the fall back plan if going to Trizonia Island, another 11 miles or so east. It was a shame as Nafpaktos looked very attractive – a little walled town with the ruins of a castle behind. Still, with the wind continuing to build, we had a great sail, tacking downwind across the gulf before gybing onto a northerly tack that took us straight into the lee of the island. We did have some excitement with an inverted sail and an inverted dinghy but we resolved those incidents in what I consider to be a seaman like manner with little shouting and no lost tempers…

Trizonia

Trizonia has a marina, built with little cost spared with EU money. However, the Greek government built the place with no consideration of how to manage it once completed. What it needed was a company to manage it, charge reasonable rates and control the place. Instead it’s just been left to moulder, along with a significant number of boats seemingly left there to decay. There’s even a sizable ketch that has sunk (fairly recently by the look of it) and is just lying there between the pontoons. Disappointing to see squandered a opportunity like this. However, for us yachties, it’s great. A free, secure place to moor sheltered from the prevailing winds and with a charming little village with bars, tavernas and the most eccentric ‘mini market’ we’ve yet found, run by an old dear who does things at her pace and no one else’s!

The sunken ketch at Trizonia - what a sad sight.

We spent 2 nights there in company with Andy and Susan waiting for the rather exciting winds to die down a bit before we set off to our next port of call, the small town of Galaxidi. We had a lovely trip there, all on the motor as there was no wind to mention throughout the whole trip of about 20 miles. We were greeted on arrival by a small half naked Greek aged about 65 or so, who took our lines and gave us instructions as to how to tie our lines. He called himself the ‘harbour master’; later it turned out he is the local drunk who spends his summer catching lines in exchange for beer and wine and his winters in jail!

His mate runs a small diesel tanker, which was a godsend for us, as we needed to refuel. Not only was he sitting there waiting for us to appear, his price is the lowest we’ve found fuel this season at €1.42 a litre (it’s been as high as €1.69 on Paxos). Almost a shame that we could only cram 70 litres into the tank!

Galaxidi is a lovely little town rising up from a deep, sheltered inlet with bars and tavernas lining the waterfront. We had a walk round the town that evening and decided to hire a car along with Andy and Susan so that we could visit Delphi the following day.

The amphitheathre at Delphi

The Delphi visit was a second visit for J and I as we’d been there before on our trip to Turkey back in 1993. J’s main memory of the place is Polly running round the stadium pretending to be an ancient participant in the games held there (no, Polly can’t remember it!). The place is stunning, high in the hills looking down into the Gulf and it is easy to imagine how vibrant it must have been at its peak. We spent a really enjoyable day there and managed to find a sizeable Carrefour supermarket on the way back to the boat to stock up a bit with heavy items, making use of the car while we had it.

We all had supper out that evening along with John and Aiveen off the boat “Cool Runnings”. We’d met them in Trizonia and were delighted to see they’d berthed next to us when we got back from Delphi. They’re heading round the Peloponese in a clockwise direction whilst we’re going anticlockwise so hopefully we’ll be able to meet up again somewhere en route.

We spent one more night in Galaxidi, dealing with a leaking front water tank. Yes, I know. I thought I’d fixed it in Mesolongi but I hadn’t. Yet another swimming pool under our bed. This time I finally tracked down the cause; there were 2 cracks in the top of the tank which, when the tank is slightly overfill, let the excess water pour out and accumulate under the bed. I used several things to try and stop the leak and seem to have temporarily solved the problem but I fear it will reoccur. Seeing as the problem mainly occurs during filling, we’ve decided to designate the forward tank as the reserve and only use it in emergency, thus minimizing the number of times we have to fill the thing. A permanent solution will have to wait until the winter layover, when I can get the place completely dry and come up with some proper fix. Watch this space.

We came back westwards again last Friday (5th August,) stopping at Trizonia for one night. The following day we set off bright and early to Mesolongi. As we passed under the bridge, the wind got up nicely and we had a cracking sail all the way down to the entrance to the Mesolongi channel. We anchored for the night outside the marina (all part of the deficit reduction programme) and had a great evening playing Rumikub with Andy and Sue.

An early morning start, "Curly Sue" ahead of us.

The following morning, we had planned to set off to Killini at 8 am. At 7.50, our phone went, waking us both from the sleep of the dead! For the first time for ages we’d both overslept. Sue and Andy were being very rude to us as they smugly hauled up their anchor and departed as we struggled out of the companion way hatch. In the event, we hauled our anchor at 8.05 – not bad, 15 minutes from being woken to getting under way. Breakfast, however, was taken underway!

Killini is an unlovely ferry port serving Kephalonia and Zakinthos. We couldn’t get into the fishing port as the depth is too shallow, so we anchored off the beach and were rocked all over the place as the (frequent) ferries arrive and depart. Ah well, at least it’s free. Today, after another good sail, running before the wind, we reached Katakolon, where we aim to stay for a few days, take a deep breath and visit the site of Olympia.

"Curly Sue" looking romantic last night at anchor outside the harbour at Killini

Our plans are now firming up somewhat. We have Jonno visiting us in Athens towards the end of September, my sister Susie is coming out shortly thereafter and we then aim to transit the Corinth Canal and make our way back to Mesolongi by mid to late October to spend the winter, finances having influenced our decision rather more than anything the Oracle at Delphi had to say on the matter. Anyone wanting to visit, feel free to get in touch and we’ll do our best to fit you in round the edges. Sleazy Jet fly to Athens all year round and there are good bus links from there but be prepared for a long journey.

 

Kastos Ramblers Club

It was one of those moments that you wonder if you had engaged brain before opening mouth.  You know the sort of thing.  You maiden aunt/sister/best mate phones you up and says “My sink’s blocked/husband’s left me/coming out for a swift half” and you reply “Of course I’ll come and unblock it/there, there, come and stay here for a bit/yeah that sounds like a great idea”.  Then your brain catches up with your mouth and you think “What!!!!  You plonker!  Unblocking sinks is bad news/I can’t stand the thought of her in the house for the next lord knows how long/Swift half my a***, swift half gallon more like it and then I’ll have to help him home.”  We’ve all done it and this was one of those moments. 

'Curly Sue', the nearest boat to the camera. She's ketch, with 2 masts instead of just one. She belongs to Andy and Sue.

We were moored to the quay in Kastos harbour, quietly dying in the heat of the mid afternoon after a brilliant morning’s sail round from Nidri.  I was idly thinking of what we could have been doing if the temperature was a little less life threatening and the thought popped unbidden into my mind.  If we were back in UK, it would have been a good day to go for a walk.  Why couldn’t we go for one here?  Well, the obvious answer came back; ‘cos it’s too f****ing hot!  How to solve this problem mused the now befuddled brain?  Why, we could rise early in the morning and go for a walk before the heat became unbearable.

Without pausing for further reflection, my mouth opened and I declared to J; “Let’s go for a walk tomorrow morning before it gets too hot to move.”  My brain now caught up with me but too late.  I couldn’t back out of such an offer, especially as J had fixed on it like a shot.

Three quarters of the kastos Ramblers Club; Julia, Sue and Andy.

So there I was.  Committed to rising from my pit at a time I had tried to forget even existed, putting on my walking boots and tramping off over a Greek island in the pursuit of…. what?  Then I had another thought.  I might not be able to wriggle of this myself but I could, perhaps, lessen the pain by spreading it round a bit.  What a cunning concept!  Who could I target?

Just then, Andy and Sue appeared in their tender, spreading joy and happiness, as their arrival provided the perfect excuse to open a bottle of plonk and relax.  After they’d both had a couple of glasses and were relaxed, I sprang the ambush.  “We’re off for a walk tomorrow morning, before it gets too hot.  Would you like to come too?” I said, “We’re not going too far, just head up the coast a bit and see what it looks like from the other point of view.”

Andy and Sue looked at one another like I’d just revealed that I was, in fact, Lord Lucan.  I thought, damn, that’s another fine plan that won’t work.  But they smiled at one another and Andy proved that he is not quite as switched on as I thought by saying “Well, I wake at about 7 every day, so that sounds like a good idea.”

And so it was that the Kastos Ramblers Club came into being.

We met the following morning at about 7.15 and tramped off through the village and headed north.  We found the coast road (not difficult, as there is only 1 road leading out of the village) and we walked along it, chatting about this and that and enjoying the cool of the morning.  The cicadas were making a fearsome racket in the trees and there were some stunning views over the sea towards mainland Greece.

South kastos - not even a goat track

After walking for about an hour and a half, we came to a side track leading up into the hills and followed it for about ½ a mile.  It lead to a little church but there wasn’t even a goat track leading on from it, so we retraced our steps back down to the coast road and (since by then it was starting to get distinctly hot,) thence back to the harbour.  We arrived back at about 10am feeling hot and tired but quietly virtuous and rather smug.

Once back on board our boats, I think that the fatigue-poisons in our blood must have affected our better judgment, as we all agreed to meet again at the same time the following day to have a look at the southern end of the island.  I can think of no other argument for this agreement other than a momentary lapse of reason.

These guys had the right idea - come by boat!

So, bright dawned the day as we rose from our pits at 7 am (yes that’s right 7 am – last time I saw that on the clock it was before waking J up to come on watch as we made the crossing from Italy).  J had looked out her walking shoes and I had my boots on, when Andy and Sue appeared on the deck of Curly Sue looking as shell shocked as we were and we set off through the village. 

This time we headed south and made our way down the road, which soon degenerated into a simple bulldozer scrape through the hillside.  Nothing daunted, we carried on in the expectation that the road must go somewhere….. after all, we had come upon the occasional house and for this reason, kept telling ourselves that there had to be a road nearby.  This proved to be a totally false premise.

All too soon we were greeted by the end of the track in the middle of nowhere.  This time, however, there was the semblance of a goat track heading on down towards the south of the island.  So, without much thought (oh, the benefit of 20/20 hindsight) we bumbled off down the track, dodging piles of goat and donkey droppings as we went, feeling quite like explorers in a vast trackless wilderness.

All too soon, we ran out of goat track and foolishly decided to press on to the next ridge line to see what was there, as Andy was convinced that there was a road somewhere on the western side of the island which should be just over the ridge….. (It’s worth pointing out here that Kastos is all of about 500 metres wide at this point.)  So we picked our way through the very prickly undergrowth towards the ridge.  Now, the walkers amongst you will already know what’s coming.  The ‘ridge’ was but a false crest, a bump in the hillside obscuring the next ‘ridge’.  Nevertheless, we pushed on through increasingly dense maquis and gained that one.  At least this ridge gave us some lovely views down into a bay where a couple of yachts were anchored.

Andy, happy to have found somewhere to walk that wasn't shredding his legs.

By this time, logic had started to kick in with the party and we decided that it would be best to stop trying to cross the island and make our way back north a bit.  This proved a little easier than trying to cross the grain of the island and we made satisfactory progress for a couple of hundred metres.  Then we ran into an impenetrable belt of undergrowth and therefore headed back down hill, following yet another goat track.

Duncan and Sue don't think much of Andy's path.......

This proved to be both our undoing and our salvation.  Our undoing; as I brushed past a tree, some nasty flying beastie stung me and then stung Andy as he followed me.  Our salvation: there was the original goat track, leading back to the ‘road’, so we could at least make our way back to the boat without any further meanderings in the old olive groves.

The mini harbour on the west of Kastos, reached after much searching in the scrub. Port Leone on Kalamos in the background.

We headed back towards the road and, as we did so, I looked to the west and saw, on the western shore of the island, a small quay about ½ mile away.  Running away from the quay to the north was a road and what’s more, there was a well defined track leading down to the road – well – ish.  We’d walked past this point about an hour earlier as we headed south but had completely failed to spot it because we’d be busy looking in the opposite direction at a shuttered up little holiday home, utterly convinced that there must be a road nearby.  So we quickly made out way down the track to the road, which climbed back up on to the top of the island and lead back to the village.  Result.

The 'Whomping Olive' a massive old olive tree we came across.

Now you know all about the KRC.  Not some sort of right wing militia or what have you, but a bunch of nutters in the style of the Almond Blossom Appreciation Society (see the book of the same name by Chris Stewart), albeit without the drinking.

Rainclouds gather over Kastos village - it rained heavily for 3 hours about 20 minutes after this was taken.

A quick post script.  We are now in Messilonghi, a small town on the northern shore of the Gulf of Patras.  We’ve decided to book in here for the winter because it’s cheap, the town is very close and a ‘proper’ Greek town and links to the rest of the world are reasonable.  More details later.

Life’s Little Trials

Today, we are back in Port Kastos, having visited Frikes on Ithaca, Port Leone on Kalamos and Nidri on Levkas not once but twice since we left you here last time, so I need to fill you in on our meanderings between the last blog and today.

The previous blog left us here on Kastos, where we stayed 3 nights, because it was too much like hard work to leave and move on somewhere else! In addition, the place is just beautiful. There is a small shop, where the bread is fetched each morning by boat from the mainland, a collection of tavernas round the harbour and a restaurant called Chef John’s up on the hill, looking out over the bay to the east. Eventually, the front water tank ran dry and, as there’s no water available of Kastos, we decided that it was time to move on to somewhere that we knew we could fill up.

The coastline of Kastos island

After a good deal of looking at charts and pilot books, we decided we’d go back to Frikes on Ithaca. For one thing, it’s a really nice little port. Then there’s a water tanker that comes round so we could fill up with water. There are garbage bins there, so we could dump the rubbish that we’d accumulated in Kastos (no bins there either – take your rubbish away with you!) and there’s Kiki’s supermarket, which not only stocks such delicacies as Patak’s Curry Pastes but also does washing at €6 a load. Oh, and there’s some nice restaurants and the place itself is just lovely.

So we set off at a reasonable hour and headed across the open sea between Kastos and Ithaca. It was only about 12 miles in total and took us about 2 ½ hours to do the trip, getting us into the harbour by about 1230. There was a space on the outer quay, so we moored up alongside and settled down to wait for the afternoon wind, which duly arrived, blowing across the harbour from the shore, keeping us cool but pinning Rampage neatly to the quay.

Then things started to go downhill a bit. We knew that we’d end up with other boats rafted up on Rampage but weren’t prepared to be the host to another 4 boats from a Nielson flotilla moored up outside us! But it was J’s birthday, so we had a great supper in one of the tavernas and retired to bed after a lovely evening out. Sleep, however, was interrupted that night, as people arrived back on board the other boats through the long, long night; the last couple stumbling back on board at about 4.30! Thankfully, most of this didn’t impact on me but J didn’t sleep well at all. I did wake up to hear a drunken conversation between a couple on a bench on the harbour wall to the effect that “you don’t love me anymore” – to which I was tempted to reply “and neither do I, put a sock in it and go to bed” but J stopped me!

The first two flotilla boats are rafted to Rampage on our second night in Frikes

It was for these reasons that we made it very clear, when approached by another flotilla leader the following afternoon, that anyone rafting up to us should make an effort to be quiet once we had retired for the night and that at all times people must remove their shoes. I am sure we came across as grumpy old curmudgeons but we really didn’t care and the message seemed to go in as the flotilla leader ensured that it was only boats with families that rafted up to us – less likely to be up ‘til the wee small hours!

We left Frikes after 2 days and returned to Nidri, in part to say farewell to Bern and Alan who were about to return to UK and in part to go to the chandlery to get a replacement wind indicator, as the old one had finally refused to play any more.

A passing vessel which Duncan admired during our trip from Frikes to Nidri

We spent 3 nights there. One day we did little other than arrive and have drinks ashore with Alan and Bern, the next day J climbed the mast but to her frustration, couldn’t manage to undo the old wind indicator, so I was then hoisted up to do the job – bit of a difficult task actually, requiring drilling new holes and all sorts of fun. (NB I’ll probably have to go back up there again as the damn thing has come loose!) Other friends, Susan and Andy aboard Curly Sue also happened to be in Nidri again and that evening, they invited us to join a group of about 14 others for supper at a taverna set in the hills looking down on Nidri. We had a great time and I don’t remember much of the walk back down to the boats….

You'll just have to trust us on this one - that really is Duncan at the top of the mast and not someone else we happened to see!

The following day we hired a scooter again – this time to explore the island of Levkas. The interior of the island is quite spectacular and it is much cooler up in the hills. However, we wound up doing the best part of 150km that day – frankly too far to be comfortable and in addition we stupidly did not stop frequently enough! That evening we joined Bern and Alan for a final meal together before they set off at 04:30 next morning to catch the 07:00 bridge opening at the top of the Levkas canal.

One of the lovely views we captured while on our scooter trip around Levkas island

We had intended to leave that day but in the end stayed on until last Wednesday, (20th July) which is when we went to Port Leone, a deserted corner of the island of Kalamos, a deep bay on the south eastern end of the island. Once there was also a small village here; a farming and fishing community that had probably been here since forever. However in the 1953 earthquake, not only did the roofs fall in but the wells and springs all went dry, so there was little option left to the inhabitants but to move elsewhere. Today, all that remains of the village are some ruined buildings and the church which seems to be undergoing restoration work at the moment; a taverna that until a few years ago, used to open during the summer to feed the yacht crews that came to anchor here, sadly now looks very closed.

We arrived there, having had a good sail round from Nidri. The wind picked up as we left the anchorage and we managed to sail most of the way here. Indeed, the reason we had left Nidri was to escape from a forecast blow that was due to arrive that evening, so we wanted to be somewhere sheltered and quiet.

One of the olive processing buildings in the ruined and deserted village at Port Leone

The bay at Port Leone is such that it is best to drop anchor and then take a line ashore to hold the boat in place, rather than swinging round the anchor. This was accomplished without too much hassle and we settled down for a relaxing afternoon before the wind got up. As we had entered the bay, our anchoring point was carefully selected so that, in theory, the westerly wind that was predicted would be blowing from the shore to us; not blowing us on shore or from one side or the other….. Dream on. The wind in this part of the world does just what it wants to do, not what it is expected to do. Mostly, this is caused by the shape of the islands. The wind may be, in general terms, a westerly but as it hits the western side of the island, the peaks and valleys of the island funnel it into a completely different direction by the time if gets to the other side. So the wind was not arriving on the stern of the boat, but blowing heartily into the side. The result was that the anchor popped out and we started to move back towards the shore at an alarming rate of knots. Luckily, the engine was running to charge the battery, so we put the engine in gear and used it to hold the boat away from the shore line until we had got something sorted out.

As an aside, we had just bought ourselves a brand new kedge (or spare) anchor. When we left UK, we had fitted the boat up with a 14kg Danforth anchor. Having now used this a number of times, it was obvious that we either needed a lighter anchor or some method of recovering it into the boat that didn’t entail me hauling the thing up by brute force; J was starting to get a bit fed up with rubbing my back with embrocation after such events. Instead, while in Nidri we decided to buy an aluminum anchor called a Fortress. Looks much like its predecessor but only weighs about 3kg!

A praying mantis hitching a ride on the old anchor

The main anchor having popped out meant that this was the time to try out the new anchor. We rigged it all up, put the motor on the tender and I then set off and dropped it out in front of Rampage. This stabilised things enough for me to put on diving gear and drop down to reset the main anchor and double-check on the Fortress. All that done, we were now stable and ready to sit out whatever the weather had to throw at us. As I swam back to the boat, I was asked by our neighbour to check their anchor out as well, so all in all I got quite a good dive out of the afternoon!

The wind continued to build throughout the late afternoon and evening, making the rigging sing quite melodiously and Rampage occasionally lurched as a gust hit but we weren’t much disturbed by the wind and got a reasonable night’s sleep. Next day, we stayed put, as the wind was forecast to remain quite strong, although it didn’t really materialize to the extent forecast.

Looking down on Tranquil Bay, Nidri

We then headed back once more to Nidri, as we were concerned that the batteries were just not holding their charge and thought we might need to replace them. The root cause, I suspect, is the fact the they are relatively high tech types and are not really designed for the heat we’re subjecting them to in this part of the world. We decided to motor all the way back to Nidri in order to put a good charge onto the batteries and then see how they coped over the following 24 hours or so. In the event I came to the conclusion that I simply wasn’t running the engine enough to charge them properly. In any event, we have postponed buying new batteries for the time being, thus ducking a significant expense, at least for now. The journey was not wasted however as we met up once more with Andy and Susan aboard Curly Sue. We have been chatting for a while now about heading off together towards the Gulf of Patras, stopping at Kastos first – which is more or less where we came in!

Before we left Nidri, we went to a night out at the local Paladium; the expat community getting together to lay on some entertainment and raise funds for a local charity. We went with little expectation, secure in the knowledge we could duck out at half time if it was too dire. In the event, we had a great evening, with acts that varied from a take off of the Darcey Bussle/Dawn French mirror sketch to some great music and singing.

Curly Sue enjoying the sail from Nidri on Levkas down here to Port Kastos

We had a cracking sail down to Kastos Port today, getting Rampage up to 7 – 7.5 knots as we came down past Kalamos and round the southern tip of Kastos. Arriving before Curly Sue, we were lucky to get the last remaining berth on the town quay when we arrived but helped Andy and Sue moor up on the northern quay before retiring for a siesta….

A donkey here on Kastos - included for our grand-daughter, Jessica, who likes donkeys!

Tomorrow we aim to rise early and have walk round the island before it gets too hot, then move on south to Meganisi the next day. Keep watching for the next thrilling installment!

A cicada (we think!) laying her eggs

Anybody here seen Captain Correlli or his mandolin?

"Rampage" in the noonday heat with as much shade up as possible!

Having dropped Jinny off in Zakinthos last Thursday, (23^th June,) J and I decided to head back north to Cephalonia and then amble our way back towards the island of Lefkas before looking at the islands between there and the mainland.  This is, I suspect, a little trying for those of you who are geographically challenged, so below are a couple of maps showing our travels since arriving in this part of the Ionian.

Southern Ionian Sea and our travels. Click on map to see a bigger image.

Northern part of the southern Ionian and our travels. Click on map for larger image.

One of the reasons for heading to Cephalonia was that the forecast was for increasing northerly winds which you will know by now we don’t do if we can avoid them.  Poros is a nice, protected little port which would be a good place to sit out the forecasted blow.  We left bright and early (well, earlyish) on Friday morning and had a brilliant days sailing.  The wind started off in the north and moved round to westerly as the day went on, which meant that we sailed virtually all the way from Zakinthos to Poros; only the last mile or so was done on the motor.  Really very satisfying and a rare day in this part of the world, where the wind always seems to be either dead on the nose of where we want to go or is blowing a gale.

We moored in Poros and had a good night’s sleep before the wind started to pick up on Saturday morning.  By mid afternoon, the forecast gale had arrived and the harbour was beginning to get quite full of boats running from the wind.  As luck would have it, we were the boat on the windward end of the quay and mid afternoon, our anchor broke out and we had to move off the quay to reset it.  After 4 attempts, it was clear that the thing would not reset in the very churned up bottom of the harbour, so we moored alongside the quay until the wind abated a little as the sun started to go down.  We then made another attempt and got the thing to bite well and hold.  We then put out the kedge anchor as well and that sorted the problem, along with several extra ropes to the quayside.

The next day was very windy again but by Monday things had quietened down and we decided to move north to a bay called Andi Sami, about 6 miles up the coast.  The bay is quite large and has a lovely sandy beach and as the winds were not forecast to return, we thought it would be a nice break from harbours.  In the event, we got there, dropped anchor, had lunch and a swim and then the winds started playing silly tricks; our anchor popped out as the wind shifted through 180 degrees and blew at about 20 mph.  We decided that enough was enough and headed to Agios Efmia, about 4 miles away, which we’d visited the previous week with Jinny.  The wind continued to build but, in typical fashion, was blowing from where we wanted to get to, so we had to motor all the way.

J & I at the Blue Hole at Melissani

The quay at Agios Efmia is quite high, we berthed bow to as it’s much easier to get on and off that way.  This involves using the kedge anchor and it’s not always obvious from the shore that you’ve dropped an anchor at all.  So as we headed into the quay, the little Greek harbour master was leaping up and down telling us to stop and drop our anchor, when we’d already done it some distance out; in fact, I got the distance dead on as there was no spare rope left by the time we got to the quay.  The harbour master is an officious little chap but very helpful, insisting that we put extra lines out and making sure we were properly secure before moving on to supervise the next arrival.

View looking down onto the Assos penisula which we visited on our scooter tour of Cephalonia

We stayed in Agios Efmia for 3 nights, as we hired a scooter on Wednesday and did a tour round the island, visiting all the main centres including a the blue hole at Melisanni.  The map below shows where we went and there are some photos as well.

Scooter trip round Cephalonia

Thursday dawned bright and still a bit breezy but we’d had enough of Agios Efmia and had decided to head for Sivota on the island of Lefkas.  We’d been there before on our sailing course but J couldn’t remember the place at all.  On the way there, the batteries suddenly announced that they were flat and the autopilot quit on us because of it.  So, having sailed all the way there by hand steering, we decided to use the pontoon by the Yacht Bar, as they provide electricity.  We moored there by late afternoon and soon had the flattened batteries on charge from the mains.  The charger was working overtime with its cooling fans blowing most of the evening. 

Sivota harbour

The next morning, I checked over the alternator and found that the drive belt was a bit loose, so with that tightened, the batteries are charging much better than before.  We moved off the pontoon on to the town quay (free!) and then wound up anchored off in the centre of the harbour when, once again, the anchor broke free, this time whilst we were out for a walk, so Rampage was bumping the quay wall when we got back, luckily not causing any damage.

We had been having a bit of a debate about where to go next and decided to return to Tranquil Bay in Nidri, as there are good shops there where we could restock with some basics and there are a couple of chandlers where we could get hold of some bits we need.  It’s only about 7 miles from Sivota to Nidri, so we got there about lunch time.  Our friends, Alan and Bern, have made it their base for the summer and J took them by surprise by swimming across to join them on board; I took the dinghy across a bit later to pick her up.

We reckon on staying here for a few days before moving on to explore some of the other islands.  The weather at the moment is hot but fairly windy so we are swinging about a fair bit on the anchor.  Most days, the wind dies away with as the sun goes down but I suspect that we may not get the usual peaceful night tonight.  Ah well, can’t have it all can you?…

… This entry has been a little neglected, as it got quite busy whilst we were in Nidri.  Bern and Alan took us into Lefkas town on the bus and we had a good wander round the place before visiting the local Volvo stockist to enquire about some bits for the engine.  They could get them for us but I was staggered by the cost – nearly €90 for a bit of hose – so we left without buying anything.  In the end, I found some high pressure hose in one of the chandlers in Nidri for a fraction of the cost of the proper job.

We had intended to set off the next day to go round to Meganissi and join some friends there for the evening.  In the event, Alan and Bern turned up at Rampage as we surfaced from a good night’s sleep to say that they’d got a problem with their propeller and were planning on returning to Gouvia to get the thing fixed.  After listening to the problem, I realised that all that was required was to replace the anode with a new one.  The local chandlery was able to sell us one at a very reasonable price and I spent a happy hour or so in scuba gear with Alan (who had borrowed J’s set) removing the propeller and the remnants of the old anode, getting the girls to clean the prop up before fitting a new anode and replacing the prop.  We also cleaned off a lot of growth from the bottom of the hull of Sanuk before taking the gear to a nearby pontoon to wash it down with fresh water.   There I happened upon a rotund gentleman hailing from the Thames estuary who had a brand new baby compressor and was looking for someone to show him how to use it.  Several hours later we’d filled four cylinders (two of which were mine,) and I trust he now understands how to use it.

Supper at "The Island" restaurant in Nidri with Bern and Alan

It was too late by then to move on that day and besides Bern and Alan had kindly offered to take us out for dinner so we eventually left Nidri last Wednesday, (6^th July.)  We spent that night in a beautiful bay just south of Port Atheni on Meganissi.  There were a few boats there when we arrived but by 7pm we had the bay to our selves.  It was utterly peaceful – no buildings, not even a road down to the beach.  Next morning after her swim, J decided to clean up the mess made all over the roof by a passing gull.  Unfortunately, in her enthusiasm, she started lobbing buckets of sea water about without checking that the hatches were closed.  Even my exited yells from below didn’t seem to deter her initially but eventually I managed to convey the scale of the problem!  It took us an hour and a half to dry out the chart table and lockers under the passage berth while the seat cushions sat in the sun to dry. 

Port Kalamos

We then pressed on to Port Kalamos on the island of Kalamos.  Kalamos is a very pretty little harbour but by evening it is full to the brim with flotilla boats, rafted up four or five deep, whose antics while mooring provide endless amusement for the rest of us.  We stayed a couple of nights and then yesterday we headed east attracted by the description in the pilot book, to the town of Astakos on the Greek mainland.  All we can say is if you’re ever in the area – don’t bother!  It was noisy, smelly and very run down so this morning we hightailed out of there and by lunchtime today we were safely tucked up in Porto Kastos on the island of Kastos. 

Kastos with the fishing boat harbour in the fore-ground and the yachts behind

This is only village and port on the island which boast a population of approximately 50.  It is undeveloped and a soothing contrast to last night when the music went on ‘til about 4am.  We’ve been for several swims since arriving here as it is the best way to keep cool and now that the sun has dropped we plan to investigate a little restaurant up on the hill which according to the pilot book has breathtaking views and very reasonable food.  Let’s hope that this time, it is more accurate than it was about Astakos! 

At "Chef John's" restaurant high above Kastos harbour with breath-taking views and lovely food - highly recommended!