Nicky, Paul, Jonno and the Canal

Well, having taken a break from writing blogs and letting Iain take the reins I suppose I must get back into harness and let you know what’s been going on over the past couple of weeks.  I’m writing this from the port of Galaxidi on the northern shore of the Gulf of Corinth, where we stayed for a few days back in the summer to visit Delphi.  We’ve been stuck here since Monday due to high winds.

 

The harbour at Aigina

 

I need to take you back almost a fortnight, to when we said farewell to Terri and Iain in Poros.  Whilst we were there with them, we’d had a message from our friends Nicky and Paul who we had last seen in Corsica last July.  They had been making steady progress across the Med from Barcelona and were now in the harbour in Aigina, about 15 miles north of Poros on the way to Athens.  They had told us that the place was packed on Friday so we reasoned that it would remain so until Sunday, when the Athens mob returned to home port, so we decided to wait until then to go across and meet them.

On Sunday, we left mid morning and made good progress out of the confined water by Poros and into the open Saronic Gulf, where we picked up a spanking wind.  Under sail we made good progress for a time but the winds kept shifting, dying away and returning from the opposite direction.  To try and cope, we decided to shake out all the reefs and succeeded in getting a line caught in the sail and ripped the thing!  At that point, we dropped the sails and motored into Aigina to join up with Nicky and Paul.  We had a great reunion, catching up on all our doings over the past year over a fair few beers.

 

Flags out! Rampage dressed overall for Jonno's arrival.

 

We were then faced with a decision as to what to do about meeting Jonno, who was due to arrive in Athens on 23 September.  Our original plan had been to leave the boat in Poros, hire a car and drive to the airport to meet him, rather than taking the boat over to Athens again.  However, Aigina is served by frequent, fast ferries to Piraeus and then the Metro to the airport, so we decided to stay in Aigina and meet him that way.

We spent the next few days getting the mainsail repaired, doing some other chores and spending time with Nicky and Paul.  They are on their way to spend the winter in Turkey, so they’re waiting for a weather window to complete the crossing of the Aegean Sea.  Not always easy at this time of year; as I write this, they are still waiting in Aigina.  As they said in an email ‘a nice enough place but we don’t want to spend the winter here’!

Thankfully, we were largely unaffected by the storms on the evening of Tuesday 20th; several anchors popped but the Neilson flotilla staff were on hand to help and no-one was injured or boats damaged.  In the Ionian the story was very different and we learned the next morning from our friends Claudio and Corinne who were there of the devastation that had taken place in Vliho Bay, Levkas.  We were all hugely sobered to hear the news and send our heartfelt sympathy to everyone affected.

Thursday started well, with J deciding to clean the decks whilst I did some work on bits in the cockpit.  You may remember a similar pattern back in June/July time, when she was happily splashing water all over the decks until I went below and found it pouring in thorough unclosed hatches?  We had a repeat of this, except that this time the laptop, our link to the world outside ‘Rampage’ got soaked.  I’m writing this on our new netbook pc, which Jonno bought out for us from the UK at next to no notice.  Many thanks to him and sorry about disturbing your well earned rest.

 

Double moored charter boats at Aigina,

 

Thursday must also be changeover day for the Athens-based charter fleets, as that evening (22nd September) the world and his wife descended on Aigina, squeezing in anywhere there was a bit of space.  We wound up with 4 boats moored in front of us, taking lines from our bows to hold them steady.  I didn’t have too much of a problem with this, as their anchors were taking much of the strain for both boats, easing my worries about ours being tripped.  They were all much disturbed the following morning, as one of our neighbours made good on his requirement to leave at 0730, leading to much shouting by charter skippers trying to rouse their hungover crews…..

Jonno’s flight was delayed by about 2 1/2 hours, due to knock on effects from the previous day’s Greek Air Traffic Controllers strike.  After the previous day’s fun and games, we decided I would stay with the boat in case anyone tripped our anchor trying to squeeze into the harbour, so J set off for Athens at about 2pm to met Jonno.  When she got to Piraeus, she found that the Metro was still on strike but the bus service (express to Piraeus) was up and running.  She made it in good time to meet our Jonno and accompany him back to Aigina on the next to last ferry of the day.  I had dressed ‘Rampage’ overall to welcome him and we had a great evening, even if we did end it a little early as he had been on duty the night before and had not had any sleep for more than 24 hours.

 

Jonno on the ferry from Piraeus to Aigina

 

You will recall Iain mentioning my having to fix the engine at short notice.  The root cause of this problem lay in the sea water pump, which had a damaged plate in it.  I had ordered an improved version from a company called Speed Seal in UK, which had been delivered to Jonno so he could bring it out.  I fitted this whilst Jonno and J did the shopping, returning with a large quantity of fresh fish.  The bit seems to have done the trick and will make changing the impeller much easier.  The company is on this link http://www.speedseal.com/saferboatindex.html .  I had such good service from them that I think it’s worth endorsing their product – another first for the blog!

We had earlier reviewed the emerging weather patterns and decided to head north to the Corinth Canal rather than pottering about in the Saronic Gulf as we had originally planned, as there seemed to be a fit of strong northerly winds due through the area.  Instead of Vathi and then Epidavros, we made our way straight to Korfos, about 16 miles due east of Aigina and a short hop south from the eastern entrance to the Corinth Canal.  It is a nice little place, with space for about a dozen yachts on laid moorings directly in front of the local tavernas.  We were made very welcome at the place we selected and were given free electricity and water.  The clear but unstated quid pro quo is that you eat or drink in the taverna.  As we had all that fresh fish to eat that night, we settled for having a few drinks with them before cooking the fish and falling into a fairly early bed.

 

Paying the mooring fee at Korfos.....

 

 

Best free berth in the Saronic - lazy lines, electricity, water and the bar is just where you want it!

 

The next morning, we were up pretty early, as we had about 40 miles to cover including the canal transit.  We were lucky and picked up a good wind as we reached up towards Isthmia, the eastern entrance to the canal.  We had been warned that the waiting quay, where we would moor whilst completing the canal paperwork, was high and not yacht friendly, so we were well prepared with loads of fenders and long lines.  In the event, the quay is not all that high and OK for yachts provided you have fendered up well.  It took us about 15 minutes to complete the paperwork and pay the transit fee.  We were then told we would be called forward to transit the canal sometime after 12 noon by radio on channel 11, so we returned to the boat and had a bite of lunch whilst waiting for the radio call. 

 

Waiting quay at the Corinth Canal - not as bad as the book made it out.

 

In the event, we watched the sinking bridge drop away, had a trip boat come out east bound and then the control tower window opened and a woman shouted to us to leave now and use full speed.  In a flurry of ropes and fenders, we left the quay and proceeded down the canal at just about our full speed on the motor of 7.5 knots.  We were closely followed by 2 tripper boats, both I think on tight schedules, as they kept very close behind us right through the canal.  The canal itself is spectacular, in a tight cutting with the sides rising about 50 metres up on either side,  It is a little intimidating in a small boat and the end, whilst in view as soon as you enter, does not seem to get any closer!

 

Corinth Canal transit - at full throttle and still the trip boat is gaining on us!

 

Once through the canal, we made sail again and had a great close hauled reach up to the northern coast of the Gulf of Corinth.  We were heading for yet another Vathi; this time a small bay promising a good anchorage in the deeply indented northern coast.  When we got there, we found that it was indeed a good anchorage but the new quay built there for handling steel from a nearby mill has led to the closure of the anchorage.  Instead we retraced our steps round the headland and found a lovely little cove with a tiny hamlet at its head where we anchored overnight.  Jonno went ashore for a run and we had a very pleasant evening watching the sun go down.

The next day we intended to go along the coast about 30 miles to a town called Andikiron, where there is a small harbour.  In the event, the winds kicked off as forecast and we were reduced to sailing under a heavily reefed foresail, trying to beat up against the wind into the port.  The large headland south of the port was acting as a funnel, increasing the force of the wind so in the end we decided to head for Galaxidi, the next port around the coast, where we knew that the wind would let us complete our approach.  It was another 15 miles but such was the wind that it only took us just over 2 hours to make the trip.

 

Jonno sets out on his long run.

 

Having looked at the forecasts for the next few days, it was obvious that we would have to stay put, as there was a good chance that if we continued westwards, we could get stuck somewhere and be unable to get Jonno to Athens for his return flight.  Jonno is in training for various long distance running events, so he took the opportunity to plan a route up into the local hills and disappeared off for a 3 hour run.  I have to confess to feeling in awe of him, his level of fitness and commitment to his sport.  I would have taken the better part of a day to complete the distance he covered and would have been good for nothing having done so!

On Wednesday, we hired a car for 2 days and headed off to Delphi, taking great pleasure in showing the sanctuary off to Jonno and having a great lunch in a restaurant overlooking the valley.  Once back in Galaxidhi, J and Jonno went for a walk, leaving me to write this and to sound the ship’s horn to join the merry cacophony from all the car horns in town as everyone celebrated a wedding here!

 

Jonno in the theatre at Delphi

 

There have been no less than 6 water bomber planes circling over the village most of the afternoon; they are fighting a fire somewhere to the west although there is no sign of smoke from here.  Their approach path to the fire lies over the village, as they have been scooping up water to the south of here.  J and Jonno took some photos of them landing to scoop up water.

 

Water bomber scooping water before flying over Galaxidi to drop its load on a fire. Click image to see at full size.

 

This morning, after a disturbed night due to renewed wind, I took Jonno to the airport, a 3 hour drive away.  J stayed on the boat as there is a local ’character’ here who drinks a little too much.  He tries to collect €5 from you if you use the electricity: if you pay him, you’ll wind up paying twice when the official lady comes round!  Anyhow, we’d turned him down yesterday and he’d promptly unplugged our cable from the pillar.  As he usually spends the winter in jail having committed some minor crime against one or other of the boats staying here, we decided that J should stay on board to prevent him using our boat as this year’s jail ticket for his winter lodgings…..

It’s been great to have Jonno with us for a few days and we’ll be sorry to see him leave tomorrow.  Our love to Lucy and we hope she has not been too lonely without him.

Terri and Iain come to visit

Welcome to a first for this blog we welcome a guest writer.  Terri and Iain came to stay with us for a week and I managed to persuade Iain to write the blog for the time they spent with us.  Thanks ever so much to Iain for his hard work and we’re glad that they enjoyed their time on board.  I’ll follow up this blog with a short one about what we’ve been doing since they left us in the next day or so.

Saturday 11^{th Sept. Linlithgow to Piraeus}

I’ve been given the opportunity to pen a guest contribution to the blog that Julia and Duncan have been writing over the past years and months so let’s hope the standards don’t fall too far!

The background is that we were trying to figure out if we could meet up with J and D for a couple of days when we were on holiday but the result of the enquiry was that we were asked to join them for a week on the boat. This was a challenge on a number of levels. While Terri has known Julia almost all of her life, I’ve only met Duncan on one or two occasions. Add to that that neither Terri nor myself have done any real sailing and it felt like a bit of a gamble. But… nothing ventured, nothing gained and we booked the flights and said yes, we’ll go.

We arranged to meet up in Zea Marina in Piraeus. We arrived in Athens airport late and the first part of the day’s thrill ride was the express bus from the airport to the port; I don’t believe that I’ve ever gone that fast in a bendy bus before. That was followed by a taxi ride from where the bus stopped to the Zea marina with the taxi driver trying to do a Steve McQueen in Bullet (the hills between the two points are a bit like a squashed version of some of the roads in San Francisco).

Despite the thrills we met up with J and D safely and started our sojourn on the good ship Rampage.

I’d been on the boat once before and my memory had the guest sleeping berth as a bit on the compact side but it wasn’t quite as compact as I remembered, a little bit of contortionism required to get into the bed but once in, there was plenty space for both of us and after the day’s travel, we both slept well.

Monday 12th Sept. Piraeus to Vathi.

Woke to what was to become a repeating pattern: bright blue sky and sunshine. It’s tough putting up with the weather but someone’s got to do it! The first big decision was where were we going to go? We hadn’t made any plans as we had no real idea of how far we could cover in a day, or truth be told the distances between the islands.

The decision was made to head for Vathi which was around 5-6 hours motoring (there wasn’t enough wind) and after a stock up at the local supermarket, we headed off. As would be the case through the week, I wasn’t sure what to expect but envisaged some dodging of big ferries given how busy a port Piraeus was. However while there were ferries about it wasn’t as busy as I expected. What did come as a surprise was the size of the waves that the ferries produced. On a more personal level the surprise was that I could sit and just watch the world, or at any rate, the sea, go by for 6 hours without any sort of technology fix. Time seems to work differently under those circumstances.

Anyways, after a long but, for Terri and I at least, a completely relaxing day on board we berthed in Vathi, less than the proverbial stone’s throw from a taverna and once everything was safely tied up it was time for a cold beer. Vathi was a lovely little harbour and the area behind the breakwater probably didn’t have space for more than a dozen boats / yachts. Idyllic, and far from the maddening crowd. The end of the first day and already things were exceeding expectations

Vathi - from the taverna at sunset.

Tuesday 13th September – Vathi to Poros.

Another good start to a day. The idea of being able to get up and step out of the back door into the warm sea seems strange when I’m sitting back in the UK typing this up but seemed completely normal when we were there. It wasn’t quite a step off the back porch into the sea that day as we had to take the tender out of the harbour and round the corner into a bay that was next to it but it would be easy to fall into that way of living and at least a part of me asks ‘why not?’.

Time then for some serious thinking about what was and was not achievable in the time we had available. We had some discussion about making our way around the Peloponnese peninsula to Navplion and we’d get the train back to Athens from there. On reflection we decided this would require that we sailed for 5 or 6 hours every day which could turn out to be a bit of a slog and introduced too much pressure for what was supposed to be a holiday. Plan B was that we would head for Poros, do a few shorter sails from there and we’d get the ferry back to Piraeus from there at the end of the week.

The trip to Poros was fairly uneventful, barring D making some repairs to the cooling system when the engine wouldn’t start properly after a brief period under sail but we were soon underway. We had toyed with stopping off in Methana overnight rather than stopping in Poros itself but a quick trip into the harbour suggested otherwise so we came straight back out and headed for Poros which was only around an hour’s sail away.

It was interesting to see Poros again as it was the only Greek island that Terri and I had ever visited before. However as that was around 27 years ago our memories weren’t exactly crystal clear on what it was like. I seem to remember it as a quiet sleepy little place but it has certainly changed. It’s now a bustling port for the boats of all sizes and nationalities. It’s a pleasant enough place but the running of the gauntlet of taverna keepers who wanted you to eat at their place, reminded me more of Spain in the pre euro days that anything else.

It also brought home a little of how international the boating community in the Mediterranean is. It easy to forget this when most of your time is spent on board with people from your own country. Some of the accents I expected to hear but it’s the first time I’ve come across so many Russian or Eastern European ‘tourists’. It shouldn’t have been a surprise I guess but it wasn’t something I’d given any thought to before.

Wednesday 14th Sept Poros to Russian Bay

After a slightly bumpier night on board due to the bow waves from the ferries going back and forth from Poros it was time to stock up on provisions and head off to our next destination. Taking care of the domestic chores started to bring home that we weren’t just joining J and D for a holiday, we were actually staying in their home for the duration. Sure the ‘home’ doesn’t stay in one place for very long but it’s still where they live day in day out. This does bring out some interesting comparisons with living in a house in that when you go to bed at night you can be reasonably sure that the houses on either side of you won’t change while you are asleep. In a boat it’s a different kettle of fish, you can go to sleep with a massive motor yacht berthed next to you and wake up to find it’s gone and there is a small local fishing boat. It’s probably something you never thought to when you live that way every day but to me it was novel.

Back to where we were going. Russian Bay is, not surprisingly a bay a couple of miles outside of Poros. We had decided that it would be good to spend a couple of nights ‘parked’ away from mainstream harbours and this was to be our first stop.

This was to be our first taste of ‘camping out’ although it could hardly be described as ‘roughing it’. Anchoring in a secluded bay, having a swim in wonderfully warm water and then dining on barbequed fish (including baraccuda) which had been picked up in the fish market in Poros hardly counts as roughing it.

The Rampage at anchor in Russion Bay with Poros in the background.

Thursday 15th Russian Bay to Dhokos

Reading and writing about it is getting boring I know but another start to the day with a dip in the ocean and breakfast on deck, you might get used to it but I doubt that you could ever take it for granted.

We headed West, pausing to take on more water at Poros before heading through the narrow channel that separates Poros from the mainland and headed past Idrya to Dhokos, an island that as far as we can tell is uninhabited apart from goats.

It was fascinating to see the coastline from the sea and by this stage I was starting to see shapes in all of the rock formations and start to imagine how a lot of the Greek myths could have come about. Just having the time to sit and let your mind wander was a luxury.

Sea monster anyone?

The trip to Dhokos was uneventful and we tied up in a bay that as far as we knew didn’t have a name… yet. (Ed: for future reference of other cruising yachts, the cove is on the eastern side of Ormos Skindos, opposite Derrick Cove.) The water was crystal clear, the clearest water we had come across yet on our trip. I went ashore to get some pictures of the island and the bay while the others went for a swim. It was almost too perfect. By the time I returned to the boat there were swarms of flies everywhere which was bizarre as there wasn’t even any food out by this point. If there had been many more it would have been intolerable but as the sun went down the flies disappeared and we settled down to eat. We did however now have a name for the where we had stopped: Bluebottle Cove.

Rampage in Bluebottle Cove - before we found out about the bluebottles...

Friday 15th Sept Dhokos to Poros.

Our last full day with J and D and a change to the way we started the day for once. We had made the mistake of leaving a plate out on desk after the previous evening’s meal and awoke to find that this had attracted a lot of wasps. Flies we could deal with but wasps were a bit too much. There was a rapid weighing of anchor and we headed away from the island as quickly as we could. An idyllic spot but the wildlife definitely wasn’t friendly.

However as the saying goes, it’s an ill wind that blows no good and the ‘reward’ that we got for the early start was a good wind and an excellent day’s sailing. Up to that point, with a couple of short exceptions all our travel had used the engine but now we could actually sail. When I say ‘we’ here I mean that Terri and I could keep out of the way while J and D did the hard work.

While I’ve done some sailing in dinghies this is the first time I’d been under sail in a keeled boat and it was a lot of fun even if I did want to walk at an angle for some time afterward.

A well heeled keel boat - a great day's sailing.

So that was just about the end of our adventure. We docked in Poros and after a stroll ate in the taverna about 10 yards from where the Rampage was tied up, not that we had much choice: the taverna owners seem to consider that if you tie up in front of their place you eat there. Not in any sort of nasty sense but it just wouldn’t have seemed right to do anything else.

The next day Terri and I caught the ferry back to Pireaus and spent the remainder of Saturday and Sunday morning doing a very quick trip of the sites in Athens before flying home on Sunday afternoon.

It was a great trip full of little surprises. I had no idea if I’d be bored silly or if being cooped up in a small space with the same people for a week would be too challenging. It wasn’t. It was once of the most relaxing holidays I’ve ever had. I’m not sure I could live that life full time, not yet anyway as I still need to learn to relax and just go with the flow a lot more but it’s something to aspire to.

There isn’t anything else to be said other than thanks to Julia and Duncan for the chance to spend some time aboard with them and for all of their hospitality.

Just a quick note: we have a new netbook computer, so as yet have no photo editing programme.  Some of Iain’s photos couldn’t be moved on to the blog site.  Sorry about that.  Normal service will be resumed shortly, as well as an explanation for the new computer…..

Onwards to Athens – an end in sight (almost)….

The last blog left you as we arrived in Navplion, the most recent spelling mistake that we visited.  Well, I mean, there are just so many ways of transliterating the Greek name places into the Roman alphabet.  You see, there are some Greek letters which have no real equivalent our alphabet, so the next best thing is to produce a spelling that sounds about like the Greek way of pronouncing the place name.  Navplion is variously spelt Nafplio, Nafplion and Navplio.   This can lead to trouble trying to locate places in the pilot books, with two places with vaguely similar names but wildly different spellings will succeed in getting mixed up.  Then there is the simple fact that there is apparently a limited supply of Greek place names, leading to repetitions.  There are, for example, no less than 3 Agios Stephanos in northern Corfu alone.

One of the three castles that defended Navplion in times gone by.

Anyhow, we are now round in the second Poros that we have found as we have travelled round the coast of Greece.  The first Poros is on the southern coast of Cephalonia; we visited there a number of times earlier in the year, including sitting out a gale for a few days.  This Poros is the island of the same name but it lies about 30 miles south of Athens.  But I’m getting a bit ahead of myself.

The park in Navplion - the old centre of the town.

We arrived in Navplion on 2 September and found ourselves a berth on the town quay.  It’s a lovely town, quite large but with a wonderful old town just by the port which is mostly untouched by modern development.  There are 3 castles there, all in pretty good nick and a museum.  It is also close to Mycenae, the centre of one of the ancient Greek civiliasations.  None of which we visited.  All too busy.  We had to shop for food and things, there was a mountain of laundry to do, the wind caused problems and then there was the disaster.

Old town square, Navplion

We had spent an hour or so on the day after we arrived looking round the modern town on the bikes, mainly looking for a laundry.  Failed.  When we got back to the boat, we fell into conversation with our neighbours, who told us that they had hired a car last time they were there and had found a laundry!  Joy.  Directions were given, the box was bolted on to the back of my bike (why always me?) and off we set.  We took a turn too soon and cycled for miles searching for the ***** laundry but finally found the place and left our dirty washing there.  On the way back, we passed a Lidl and stopped to stock up on cheap booze and stuff.

The following day we had looked at the weather forecast and found it was going to blow strongly from the north, so we’d decided to stay put.  In fact, we wound up spending most of the day fighting with anchors to keep us off the harbour wall and not really able to leave the boat alone and go off to the museums and things.

The following day, we were so far off the wall (to stop the hull banging against it) that I decided to do a bit of modification to Boris the passerelle, so that we could use it like a draw bridge and not have to have one end resting on the quayside.  This turned out to be a DISASTER; as I walked out to the end of the thing, it tipped up and dumped me into the ogin.  Unfortunately, not only did I collect a remarkably good set of rope burns on my right hand but I succeeded in twisting my knee, which promptly decided to swell up and stop working.  I therefore spent the next 24 hours in bed on a mixture of pain killers and alcohol, which did the trick!

Porto Khelli (or Helli). This is the hydrofoil ferry leaving the main port, leaving behind a nice relaxing wash for us all to enjoy.

J did a good deal of admin types bits during the day and we managed to escape mid morning on Tuesday 6 September and made our way down to Porto Khelli (or Helli) where we anchored in a small cove off the main bay.  The next morning, for reasons which escape me, J got us up early and we motored round to Dhokos, a barren island about 12 miles to the east.  We found a wonderful little anchorage there and were anchored with a long line ashore by 1230. 

 

On Thursday, we planned our return to civilization and fresh food by going to Poros.  The wind, for once, did just as we’d asked for; blew steadily from the north east all day.  We got a really great sail, making 5 to 6 knots most of the day.  Glorious! 

Early morning in Derrick Cove, Dhokos

Poros town is on the southern side of the island, about ½ a mile off the mainland.  To reach the town quay or the anchorages beyond one has to hug the shore of the island through the channel as it gets very shallow on the mainland side.  J was at the helm and watched the depth gauge like a hawk as we made our way round to the North Quay.  The town is on a promontory lined with a quay, where you can moor either to the north or to the south and is backed by lots of little shops and tavernas.  It’s a great little place, and we will be back here in a few days as it’s the first real stopping place south of Athens.

The quay side at Poros

Tomorrow, however, we leave here heading into one of the marinas in Athens, first to meet up with a Greek friend from many years ago who lives there and then to pick up our friends Iain and Terri, who are coming from Scotland to visit us for a week.  Look out for the next blog to hear how it goes and whether they cope with the sudden, dramatic change of temperature and/or some of the less romantic aspects of yacht cruising such as very little headroom in the aft cabin, a fairly limited water supply and the stench from the holding tank at times.  Will this be the end of a beautiful friendship?  Will we wind up killing one another in one of the remoter parts of the trip?  Watch this space …..

A rock, a church and dolphins

After the relative isolation of the Southern Peloponnese, arriving in Monemvasia was a bit like a return to civilisation. Having visited the first available ATM since leaving Kalamata more than a week earlier, we were now able to restock on food, water and fuel.  However, it was not the mundane practicalities of life that kept us in Monemvasia an extra day longer than we had planned, but the sheer delight of the place.

The rock of Monemvasia, with the fortified lower town clearly visible and the wall of the upper town above it.

Monemvasia has been likened to Gibraltar in that a vast rock stands just offshore, linked to the mainland by a short causeway.  Inevitably it has been fortified for centuries, by the Greeks, the Venetians and the Turks and it has been a significant trading post both with the east and Asia Minor and with the west.  At the base of the rock is a walled town – the Lower Town, accessible only on foot through a vaulted gateway.  Higher up runs another wall protecting the Upper Town and on the very summit stands the ancient citadel.  Our first evening, we contented ourselves with a stroll through the town on the mainland, before stopping for a drink at a little bar facing the causeway and the rock. 

Why can't we take this attitude to places in UK - you want to look round, feel free but it's your problem if you fall over or something falls on you!

The following day Duncan once more needed to address problems with the engine.  Intermittently, the sea water cooling system has refused to play and regular readers to our blog will know that he has already tried to resolve the matter more than once.  However, this time he resolved to remove the exhaust injector elbow, which until now he’d been reluctant to do.  The problem then became obvious as it was found to be almost completely blocked with limescale and it is something of a miracle that it has been working at all!  The job was not nearly as bad as he feared it would be and hopefully, we will have no further difficulties in that respect at least.  While he was working on the engine I got to work with our baby Singer sewing machine and made a number of bags from ripstop nylon for storing ropes as we have found them to be incredibly useful to avoid long shore lines etc from knotting themselves as they are paid out.   We then did a shop so it was fairly late before we set off for the rock.  We cycled round through the town and across the causeway as far as the gate to the lower town and then continued on foot.  It was immediately obvious that the Lower Town was very charming and also cool, trendy and probably expensive.  It was a maze of winding streets, shops and restaurants and full of beautiful people.  However, we refused to be distracted from our main purpose of climbing to the citadel. 

The entrance tunnel into the upper town

Even at 7:30pm we were fairly hot by the time we had climbed the steps up the path to the Upper Town.  Through another huge, covered gateway we were confronted by the church of Hagia Sofia, modelled on the building of the same name in Istanbul and this too has been both a church and a mosque at various times.  It is reputed to be the best of all the 26 churches on the rock and supposedly wonderful inside with some fabulous frescoes but we cannot comment on that as the doors were firmly locked and even had they not been, we were not appropriately dressed to go inside since we were both in shorts and t-shirts.  Besides this, we needed to press on to the citadel before dark.  The Upper Town was the administrative centre and consisted largely of public buildings and a complex of water cisterns but it is all ruins now apart from the church of Hagia Sofia, but the paths are there to follow through the undergrowth and rocks up to the citadel itself.

The church of Hagia Sofia

I was becoming increasingly anxious as the light was fading fast and the going was pretty rough.  Not only did we not have the torch that I usually take with me everywhere, but I – in a moment of extreme blondeness – had come shod only in a pair of flipflops!  I know, I know – I should have learned my lesson after a similar act of stupidity when we visited Rome.  In my defence, I had no idea that it was going to be so rugged and I spend about 95% of the summer wearing just flipflops so it hadn’t occurred to me that they might not be appropriate on this occasion. 

J at the Citadel...

Well, we made it to the top which stands about 100 metres above sea level and stood to admire the spectacular views of the coastline north and south with the mountains behind.  We didn’t linger for long ‘though as the sun had already dropped behind the ridgeline but set off at a brisk pace back the way we had come, managing to get back to the gateway to the Upper Town before we lost the last of the daylight.  We managed to make it back safely with no twisted ankles although Duncan did slip and jar his back slightly.  The path and steps down from the Upper Town are paved with rocks which have been polished smooth by centuries of use so they are now really quite slippery.  I was being very cautious, (in my silly flip flops,) whereas D was all confidence in a sensible pair of trainers.  Ah well.   We’d originally planned to stop for a drink in the Lower Town but by the time we got down we were tired and hungry, having had a late breakfast but nothing since and it was now getting on for 9pm so we returned to be bikes and supper on board.  It was at this point that I suggested staying another day so that we could explore the Lower Town in daylight and take photos and I am so glad that we did. 

... and D was there too. "Rampage" lies in the harbour below.

 

The lower town by night

One of the things that particularly struck us the next morning as we pottered about the narrow winding streets was that everywhere is not only sensitively restored but it’s also well maintained and tidy – unusual for this part of the world – ‘though there is still the occasional ruin yet to be fully excavated, amid the houses, hotels, shops and restaurants.  We stopped for a glass of fresh orange juice in a vine-shaded little courtyard where a French couple were sitting playing board games.  The atmosphere by day was wonderfully relaxed and peaceful.  After visiting the museum we treated ourselves to lunch at terraced restaurant overlooking the sea and had a simple but delicious meal of crisply fried little fish, Greek salad and tzatziki – fabulous!  If you are ever in this part of the world do not miss an opportunity to visit Monemvasia – it’s beautiful and I loved it.

A lizard in some of the unrestored ruins in the lower town. It's about 4 inches long overall.

 

D and an ancient canon in the lower town square.

Our next stop, in its way, was equally stunning.  On Thursday we made our way up the coast to Kiparissi where a large bay is encircled by high mountains – very green everywhere with crystal clear water.  We had a choice of three possible moorings and elected to go to Chapel Cove, which as the name implies, has nothing more than a small quay and a tiny white chapel.  Once again we had some trouble getting our anchor to set but eventually solved the problem by putting out the Fortress kedge anchor as well.  This dug in without a problem so after preparing a curry to eat later we set off to walk round the bay to the village of Kiparissi .  This time, dear readers, I wore sensible shoes and we each took a torch which proved essential on the way back.  The path winds it’s way through trees around a couple of small headlands and drops down into the village which is small and very pretty.  Once again we sat and lingered over a drink on the waterfront as we watched the sun go down and a group of small boys playing pirates on a catamaran tied to the quay in front of us.  By the time we set off to return to “Rampage” it was completely dark and though it was a starry night the moon was but a sliver.  Without our torches we could not have seen the path at all and would probably have had to find accommodation in the village for the night.

Chapel Cove moorings - just 3 boats in there, a lovely peaceful little place.

We continued north yesterday, leaving Kiparissi at 9am and motoring for several hours before finally picking up a southerly to blow us towards Navplion on just the foresail.  Suddenly we spotted dolphins.  This is only the second time all summer but this time they stay playing in the bow wave for maybe 15 or 20 minutes and Duncan was able to get some fantastic video footage.  We can’t publish it on the blog because that involves paying and we’re far too cheap, however I hope the pics will go some way towards giving and impression of how wonderful it was.  It was a largish pod and they were exuberant – at times leaping right up out of the sea.  It was our 33^rd wedding anniversary yesterday and we couldn’t have asked for a better gift. 

Dolphins

 

And more dolphins

 

And a few more. Photos, just don't do them justice, as they weave back and forth amongst one another round the bow of the boat. Full of life and the joy of being alive.

 

And they really do 'walk' out of the water on their tails, just for the delight of doing, or so it seems to us.

 

Now we are tied up on the quay at Navplion and plan to stay several days,  partly because there is quite a bit to do here, both admin-wise (shopping, laundry etc.) and touristy stuff, but also because there are strong northerlies forecast over the next couple of days so we’ll sit them out before moving on.

Round the Cape

The innocent-looking Akios Maleas on the tip of the eastern-most "finger" of the Peleponnese

If you look on the internet, there are no end of sites with weather forecasts, including a number dedicated to the yachtsman. They vary in the quality of their output, with some giving little more than the shipping forecast, whilst others purport to give details down to almost street level. There are ones where they are simple to interpret, presenting the information in easy to assimilate ways whilst others seem to rely on your detailed knowledge of weather forecasting to read the info.

Now, being in a part of the world where weather (and particularly winds) play an important part of the decision making process, we take a keen interest in these sites. For one reason or another, we’ve settled on about 3 sites. One is weatheronline.co.uk, one is meteo.gr and finally a site called Zygrib. We watch all three sites so that we know what the winds are up to and, when a blow is forecast, we visit the sites more frequently. Over time, we’ve come to trust the output from weatheronline and Zygrib but had only recently found meteo.gr so were unsure of how good it was.

Well, we left you at the end of the last blog waiting in breathless dread to hear about how we coped with the gale force winds we were expecting arrive at any moment. In the event, we did get some winds but nothing to worry us and nowhere near as bad as forecast. We’d been looking mainly at meteo.gr with its fine detail forecast which turned out to be nowhere near as accurate as the ones from the other 2 sites.

We stayed in Plitra, at anchor, until Saturday, when the winds looked to be getting lighter and there was a possibility of sneaking round the corner into the Aegean. Plitra is a funny little place, almost like a seaside version of a town from a spaghetti western. Not quite tumbleweed blowing through the streets but the feeling of neglect and nothing much happening. There were a few tavernas and a little shop offering very little in the way of anything. As we had eaten our way through all of our fresh rations, we were a little disappointed to find that all we could buy there was a couple of tins of meatballs, some fresh bread and milk and a (vital) replen of beer. We did manage to pick up a water melon from a guy selling them from the back of his pickup, which helped assuage J’s fruit cravings for a few days.

We left Plitra heading for Elafonisos, a little island about 20 miles to the south, where we expected to be able to tuck ourselves up for a couple of nights before rounding the cape as the winds abated. In the event, we met a force 5 – 6 from the north east which made for great sailing but rendered the anchorage for which we were heading, untenable. Instead, we ran downwind for another 20 miles or so to Porto Kayio, which we had left 4 days before to go to Plitra. Such are the vagaries of the sea; you never quite know what’s going to happen next.

Duncan - never far from his "Times" on the Kindle - tucked up in the only available shade as we motor in flat windless, seas.

We had all sorts of fun getting the anchor to take in the hard sand of the bottom of the cove. In the end, we gave in and just left it lolling on the seabed in an idle fashion with a load of chain to help keep us in place. Later that evening, the wind finally settled down into a light north easterly and I put out the new kedge anchor, which bit in nicely and gave me the confidence for a good night’s sleep.

The following morning, I was quite ready to loll about and do nothing, aiming to head back to Elafonisos again on Monday and round the cape on Tuesday. J had other ideas so I gave in and we left at 11.30am to try Elafonisos once more. There was no wind and we retraced our steps of the day before on the motor. About 4 or 5 miles short of the anchorage, the wind came up and we started to make sail. We’d just finished hoisting the mainsail when the phone went – not the best of times. For once, we answered it instead of ignoring it. Just as well we did: it was a call from John and Aiveen McCool from their yacht “Cool Runnings”. Their engine had decided to stop working and the wind had disappeared and they were just off Cape Maleas and please could we help…..

We were about 2½ hours from their position but told them that of course we’d come and help – a tow was the most obvious solution. We then motor-sailed towards their position for the next hour or so, making little progress because of the wind and a current running against us. The last thing I wanted to do was to break anything on “Rampage” and just add to the problems. In the end, John called back to say that the alternator mounting had sheared but that he had managed a temporary repair and was motoring towards Elafonisos. We said we’d carry on towards them so as to be there if the repair broke. Shortly after that, we spotted them as they rounded the island between us and the shore, so we were able to drop the sails and motor into the anchorage behind them.

We had an emotional reunion with them both on board their boat. I had a look at the engine, which couldn’t be fixed properly with the resources we had there but would get them to Kalamata (about 80 miles away) where they could get it properly repaired, so much relief all round. Later, we went ashore by dinghy and had supper in a funny little canteen type place which was part of a large camp site just behind the beach.

John and Aiveen aboard "Cool Runnings" leave Elafonisos, heading for Kalamata and engine repairs!

After coffee onboard “Rampage” the following morning, “Cool Runnings” (named after the film of the same name about the Jamaican bobsleigh team) left, headed for Porto Kayio and then on to Kalamata, where they should be by now! We left a little later, when a slight southerly wind signaled the change from the meltemi which had been stopping us from rounding the cape.

A fellow yachtsman seizes the opportunity to round Akios Maleas, heading west as we go east.

We picked up a lovely wind and headed off east towards the cape. As we sailed, we were followed by another boat who had been playing the same game as us over the past week – we had seen them before in Porto Kayio. About 3 or 4 boats passed us going the opposite direction, so we were optimistic that the winds had changed as forecast.

As we approached the cape, the wind reversed direction and we had to tack away from the cape to get round it. Our tack took us a few miles off, but we were eventually able to reverse the tack and make good progress towards the cape with all sails set. Finally, we made it round the headland and were able to set a northerly course towards our destination of Monemvasia. Then the wind died. Then the cooling water flow for the engine stopped. So there we were about 500 metres off the shore, in a very confused sea, with no wind and no motor! I dived down into the saloon and frantically fiddled about with the engine and eventually managed to resolve the problem. Calm then returned to the cockpit and we resumed out unhurried trip.

The grim face of Akios Maleas challenging all sailors not to underestimate him...

... and closer to, the face is clearer still.

It took us another 2½ hours to get to Monemvasia. It is a remarkable place and is known as the Gibraltar of the Aegean. There is a rocky island just offshore here that rises up out of the sea much like Gib does off the coast of Spain. There is a causeway linking it to the mainland and a castle and fortified village to explore.

Approaching Monemvasia with the little, walled town at the base of the Rock. More of this in the next blog!

Now that I’ve finished repairing the engine and J has finished making new bags for ropes, we aim to explore the island in the cool of the evening before moving on tomorrow towards Athens. Keep watching for more exciting installments. Hmmm, perhaps not exciting. Frankly, exciting round here means something’s gone wrong. So perhaps our next boring installment would be better?

 

Wasps, a parting of ways and old friends

Well, I suppose it had to happen in the end. There was no way round it really. It wasn’t a hasty thing but considered and thought through, the pros and cons weighed in the balance and a decision was taken. We had to part company and go our separate ways. It was a sad ending but it had to happen. Logic forced itself upon us in the end, although it was never easy. Yes, that’s right. Curly Sue and Rampage have parted company; Andy and Susan stayed on in Pylos, before heading back north to meet visitors in Lefkas, whilst we carried on south round the Peloponnese on our way to Athens to meet up with Terri* and Iain in about 2 weeks time. (*one of the infamous Stunning Ruins.)

That said, as is often the case with plans made by the crew of Rampage, it didn’t quite work out as planned. After we’d posted the last bit of the blog, we were all ready to set off south. We’d been watching the weather, as there’d been high winds sweeping down from the Adriatic which we didn’t fancy getting involved in. Anyhow, the winds had moderated and all was set for us to be off the next day; shopping done, water tanks refilled (by means of containers, from a tap about 200 metres away) and beer replenished. We had arranged to have a last game of Scrabble with Andy and Susan before walking up the hill overlooking the marina to watch the sunset.

Sunset over Navarino Bay, taken by a wasp bitten photographer. The lengths we go to for our readers.....

All was going well, until I took a swig from my can of beer. Disaster. There was a wasp clinging to the inside of the can, which promptly stung me on the inside of my lip. This, I can assure you, is excruciatingly painful. The normal palliative would be ice – don’t be silly, no ice on our boats. Instead, I made do with a foul tasting gel stick (normally reserved for mosquito bites) and a cool can (unopened) of beer. This left me feeling sorry for myself and in a bit of pain but ok to tramp up the hill to watch the sunset. So off we set.

A chart showing our travels related in this blog. Double click to view the chart at full size.

From the marina it looked like a short, if steep, walk up the road to the viewpoint. In fact, I reckon that we must have walked the best part of a mile uphill as the road wound its way up. Hot and sweaty and with a lip now the size of a supertankers bow, I ambled along at the back and suffered in silence. Even deeper silence than usual, as I’d taken my hearing aid out as the cicadas were sending it crazy. We duly arrived at the viewpoint, marveled at the colours in the sunset, took loads of photos and then walked back down the hill to the boats.

I peeled off straight to bed, feeling a little rough. I took an antihistamine tablet to try and reduce the swollen lip and went straight to sleep. The next morning, we rose fairly bright and early and started to walk into town to do a bit of last minute shopping, me still with an interesting lip. By the time we were half way there, it was obvious that all was not well with me, so I turned round and put myself back to bed for the rest of the day. I don’t know if it was some sort of short lived bug, a reaction to the wasp sting or the antihistamine but I wasn’t going anywhere that day! J had a very boring day as I spent most of it asleep but we eventually got our act together the following morning (Wednesday 17th August) to make our way round to the anchorage at Koroni, on the other side of the peninsula from Pylos, leaving Curly Sue to wait for a break in the northerly winds.

A farewell to Andy and Sue

We sailed past Methoni, yet another fortified coastal town, this time on the tip of the peninsula before rounding the first cape of the Peloponnese and making our way up the coast to Koroni. Surprisingly, this little town (hardly more than a village) also boasts (wait for it) a Venetian era fortress looking down on the anchorage. For some complicated reason, whilst the winds (and not much of them) disappeared round about 8 pm, a swell started off from the east and continued all night. Nothing to worry about, just uncomfortable, making it difficult to sleep.

A view of Methoni as we rounded the point.

We only had about 4 hours to sail to get to our next destination, so we went ashore in the morning and walked round the castle. Once again, not a single thought about health and safety but freedom to roam all over the place. There is a monastery in the centre of the castle and the old bastions facing out to sea are still more or less intact. One of them is an amazing double decked construction, with a massive pillar in the centre of the lower level supporting the upper one. Absolutely gobsmacking.

Koroni Castle from the boat

J on the top 'deck' of the bastion

Once we’d been round the castle and had a drink in a leafy square of the town, we set off for Kalamata. This is the place where the olives come from and is the biggest town we’ve been to in Greece so far. It has a commercial port and the marina is next door to it; it is a real marina – expensive but with all the whistles and bells, including a Port Police office on site so you can get your papers stamped.

The massive supporting pillar in the lower 'deck' of the bastion at Koroni castle

Our original plan had been to stay 2 nights whilst we restocked the stores and did the odd job on the boat, oh and did half a ton of washing in the launderette (which, incidentally, earns J’s recommendation as the best one in Greece – 8kg self service machines for €4.50 a time). In the event the weather intervened.

The next major step on the trip to Athens involves rounding Cape Maleas, which has an evil reputation as the winds do funny things round the cape. At the moment, the ‘meltemi’ wind is blowing in the Aegean; this wind blows through much of the months of July and August. It is a strong (force 6 – 8 ) northerly wind which affects much of the Aegean basin. Whilst it is blowing, the rounding of Cape Maleas from the west is impossible, so you have to wait for a gap in the wind before attempting it.

We had not really built this into our plans. Blithely transposing our Ionian experience, we had assumed that winds built in the day and disappeared at night, and therefore whilst we might have to make an overnight passage to get round the cape, it shouldn’t present a significant problem. We have found however, to our chagrin, that this is not the case. The Meltimi is a full time effect which goes on day and night…..

Ormos Limeniou from the boat

So what? Well, we postponed out departure from Kalamata for a day, as it was well clear that we couldn’t keep to our original timetable, nor could we tuck up in a west-facing bay in the bit of the Peloponnese we were in, (Messiniakos Kolpos) as there was a strong westerly forecast for that day. However, the winds were OK for the following couple of days (not for getting round Cape Maleas in the east but for sheltering elsewhere while we rounded the middle “finger” of the Peloponnese), so we set off at 7am (yes, that early morning thing again!). We sailed for about an hour and a half before the wind died away (as forecast) and motored on to the bay of Limeniou, about 20 miles from Kalamata. We tucked up in a little cove on the southern shore of the bay with a delightful (no sarcasm – it really is quite nice!) holiday development round the shore line.

Then we looked again at the wind forecast. No go. We wouldn’t even get round the next cape, Ak Tainaro, let alone carry on to Maleas the next day, so we stayed put. While we were there, I replaced the screws holding the anode on to the saildrive whilst J supervised and passed tools to me and then I went on to untangle a neighbouring French yacht’s anchor chain from some local ground chains, after which we were presented with a splendid home-produced jar of ratatouille by way of thanks.

Our French friend sails off after D freed his anchor for him.

The weather kept with the forecast and we set off the next morning (Tuesday 23rd) to get round into the eastern bay of the Peloponnese (Lakonikos Kolpos). Our destination was a place called Porto Kayio, a wonderful natural harbour about 5 miles north of the cape. We picked up a great westerly wind as we came round the cape and sailed all the way up to Porto Kayio.

The bleak, rather forbidding coast we're crusing past at the moment.

As we dropped the sails and round up into the bay, we found that there were 2 other boats already at anchor; a Brit in a steel yacht and, to our surprise, the Hallberg Rassy ketch “Leviatha”, belonging to our friends Claudio and Corinne, who we had last seen leaving Gouvia back in March. They have spent most of the summer in Athens after a series of disasters. Firstly, they had engine problems that meant they had to wait for spares, then Corinne injured her neck, leading to weeks of treatment to avoid surgery. Finally, the doctors gave her the all clear and they found another fault on the engine, leading to yet more delay. They finally managed to escape from Athens a couple of weeks ago and rounded the dreaded Cape Maleas a few days ago. They had arrived in Porto Kayio only a couple of hours before we did – a true meeting in the wilderness! We had a great evening with them and caught up on all our news – they had a good time in Athens, despite it not being exactly what they had originally hoped to be doing. They gave us a heap of places to visit and things to do if we decided to visit the city for any length of time.

Porto Kayio. 'Levithia' is to the right.

Our intention yesterday was to go up to a place called Yithion to wait out the winds and then on to a bay on the southern coast of the island of Elefanisos before finally rounding Cape Maleas. We decided to change this in view of the latest weather forecasts; we now expect gale force north easterlies for the next 3 or 4 days, so we are tucked up on the opposite coast to Yithion in a little bay near a village called Plitra on the eastern finger of the Peloponnese. We will stay here until Saturday or even Sunday and when the winds die down, we’ll make our way to Elefanisos before heading on round the cape early next week. Think of us for the next few days – the anchors are set, the fridge stocked and so hopefully cabin fever will the main problem, as we’re unlikely to be able to get ashore and there’s a limit to the amount of time we can spend reading books, playing games and being nice to one another…….

D laying the kedge anchor from the dinghy in preparation for the arrival of the meltemi.

The Games and a Famous Battle

Or at least where they kicked off.  Olympia, the site of the ancient Pan Hellenic games, lies inland from the port of Katakolon.  The port is essentially in two parts: a shallower, northern sector, given over to local fishing boats and visiting yachts and a deep water port which hosts anything up to 4 cruise liners a day. 

The cruise ships come in and are met by a fleet of coaches which then depart for Olympia.  The coaches return about 3 – 4 hours later complete with bemused passengers and depart from the port with much hooting of sirens.  Whilst one has to admire the ship-handling skills of the crews of these vessels, there is no doubt that they are amongst the ugliest ships to grace the oceans.  Tall, slab sided and designed to cram as many people on board within the limits of draft and beam (so that they can come into the smaller ports such as Katakolon,) they are truly one of those cases where appearance has been sacrificed on the altar of functionality.  Pity, when you think of ships like the QE2 and Canberra, which managed to combine the two so well.  OK. Rant over.

An unlovely cruise ship - note wind scoop atempting to bring cooling breeze down into 'Rampage's' forward cabin.

As far as the yachtie side of the harbour is concerned, we had no complaints at all.  For the princely sum of €10 per night (which we almost had to tie the harbour master down before he’d take it), we got electricity and water laid on to the berth, nice shops and bars a short stroll away and a secure place to leave the boats.  Yes, we’re still in the company of Curly Sue.

After arriving, we questioned a few other yachties about visiting Olympia and the consensus was to use the train.  Apparently, one would leave at 9am for Olympia and a return train would depart at 3.30pm.  If we wanted to leave earlier, there were trains but they would only take us half way and we’d have to catch a bus from there.  The train times suited us well, as it would give us lots of time to explore the ancient site and cost less than hiring a car in the port, where rates were silly, being based on people from cruise ships with no time and loadsa money.

Julia, Sue, Andy and Duncan find some shade at Olympia.

The next challenge was to spot the train station.  Oh dear, what a culture shock.  We were all looking for the standard northern European model; little booking office, platforms, fenced in rail track, notice board (possibly vandalized) with timetables.  You know what I mean.  No.  What we found was more like something from a western; a shack (now converted to a café) with train line adjacent to it, no information on trains, no fencing and the track really had seen much better days.

The following morning, we sorted ourselves out into some semblance of order and prepared for a day of ruin bashing.  At 8.30am, a train pulled into the station to the accompaniment of much hooting of the whistle and grinding of wheels.  A pleasant young woman had set up a table on the trackside and sold us return tickets after checking we were content to remain in Olympia until the 3.30 train and away we went.

The journey took about 45 minutes and meandered through the countryside to the small town that has built up around the ancient site since its initial excavation by the French in the late 19^th century.  We then spent a happy few hours wandering round, taking in the ruins and speculating about what it must have been like in its heyday.  Afterwards, we went round the museum which did a pretty good job of explaining the history of the site and displaying some of the myriad of finds that have been made there.  We then adjourned to an ice cream café near the station until the train was due to depart, which it duly did, right on time!  (It is worth mentioning as an aside that we paid €10 per head for the return train journey plus a further €9 combined entrance to the ancient site and museum.  We learned next day that the passengers from one particular cruise ship at least were charged $140 per head for the trip to Olympia – quite a mark up and we were much amused to notice that one of the cruise liners was appropriately named “Costa Fortuna!”)

The stadium at Olympia. Just the one stadium that was used for the Games every four years for getting on for 1,200 years, thus avoiding the requirement to build a new one every 4 years. Perhaps we could learn something from the ancient Greeks?

We then spent the next couple of days just sort of lurking in Katakolon, as the winds were a bit interesting; force 6 – 7  from the north.  We had all decided that we didn’t need to be anywhere, so we might as well stay put.  On Thursday 11 August, the winds had abated to manageable proportions so we left Katakolon and sailed for our next destination of Kyparissia.  The harbour doesn’t get a good write up in the pilot books, as it is open to any northerly swell, but we’d been told by someone who had come from there that the new northern breakwater had been completed and it now provided safe shelter in all winds.  After checking Google maps, which showed work in progress on the breakwater, we decided to chance it.  Once we cleared the shelter of the little peninsula of Katakolon, we hit the result of the last few days’ winds in a long, rolling swell which made the passage a bit uncomfortable but as the wind built we were able to hoist the genoa, which settled the boat down and we had a good sail.  As we approached Kyparissia, we could see the swell breaking on the harbour wall, often appearing to go right over the top of the wall – slightly worrying to say the least.

Anyhow, Curly Sue had motored most of the way down and got there about 45minutes before us, so a quick radio call reassured us that they were in and alongside and the harbour was OK.  Andy also told us to the route to use to enter the place, so we didn’t have too much trouble getting in and safely berthed.  Whilst it was calm inside, there was quite a surge from the swell, so care had to be taken to get the fenders and lines right so as to minimize movement and the chance of damage.

Waves coming over the top of the breakwater at Kyprissia. It's not always easy sailing out here....

Just as we’d got in and sorted things out, J came down with a tummy bug of some breed, which promptly laid her low for the next 36 hours, to the extent that she didn’t really eat much or do more than lie round in the cockpit looking pale and wan…… 

The harbour at Kyparissia is big, mostly empty and, now, well sheltered; there is water and electricity laid on to the quay and no one bothered to come and take any money off us! Result.  We also enjoyed an open air rock concert on our last evening there which ended at the very reasonable hour of about half past midnight!  The town itself is pleasant enough with lots of shops for resupplies and dominated by a castle on the hill above.  We were told that it was a good place to visit in the evening to watch the sunset over the sea but by then we had decided that it was time to move on.  Maybe another time.

We are now in Pylos, a little marina on the southern side of the bay of Navarino.  The bay is a sheltered deep water anchorage which is about 5km long by about 3 km wide and is one of the few sheltered places on the western coast of the Peloponnese.  The town is quite nice and has an old Ottoman era fortress in quite a good state of preservation (paid for by a grant of €1.4m from the EU – aren’t you glad that your money is being so well spent!), which we spent today going round.  What a change from a similar site in UK – no nice little boards telling you what you’re looking at, no guard rails, no prohibition from wandering just about anywhere you want.  We walked all round the extensive walls, which would doubtless would have been fenced off in the UK as representing a ‘Health and Safety’ hazard.  Bah humbug.

A view of the marina at Pylos from the fortress wall, with the town in the foreground.

Navarino Bay is famous in modern Greek history as the site of the naval battle between the Ottoman navy and an allied fleet of British, French and Russian vessels on 20 October 1827.  At the time, the Greeks were in open rebellion against the Ottoman forces occupying the country and the allies were attempting to broker a deal which would give the Greeks autonomy but leave them as part of the Ottoman Empire.  The allies inflicted a devastating defeat on the Ottoman’s navy, leading in due course to Greek independence.  If you’re really interested in the whole thing, then follow this link http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Navarino to the Wikipedia page.

Not the three wise monkey; perhaps three foolish humans? Duncan, Sue and Andy in the grounds of Pylos castle.

We’re remaining here tomorrow before setting off again heading south, when we will be parting company with Curly Sue, as she has to return north to meet up with visitors arriving in Levkas at the end of the month.  We must also get a bit of a wriggle on as we now have visitors arriving in Athens in mid September and it would never do, not to be there to meet them.  Anyhow, enough for now, we must select photos and get this posted for all our avid readers.

 

The citadel at Pylos castle.