Sunday 31 August 2014

The Bridge of Khalkis. (Terry)


We arrived at the dockside of Khalkis and were assisted in going alongside by Geoff, a Frenchman who has spent 30 years living in Wales(those old wine smuggling routes die hard, eh?) – His wife, Simone, speaks English with a strong French accent but he speaks English with a Welsh accent.  They were a very nice couple on a very nice 31’ cruiser.

The bridge with its currents

The transit is an ancient one.  The Emperor Justinian was the first to bridge the distance (that we know).  It can be a terrifying piece of water.  The current reverses up to 7 times a day, and even at times has north current in the mainstream and south on the periphery, a sort of whirlpool.  The reason for all this has yet to be explained and Aristotle himself was so perplexed by his inability to understand it he is reported to have jumped in in frustration!  Maybe it was just an August day?

The current

You have to find the Port Police to book your transit – not easy, as they are in back alley with no signs until you see the building’s doors.  It costs E18.77 to pass, and you are instructed on the procedure.  The Port Police control the nightly passage but it is Khalkis Municipal Employees who determine slack tide/slack current and decide when the bridge will open.  You are instructed to be on standby from….x, usually 10:30pm or so.  From then, the Municipal guys monitor the flow and then hit the “go” button and you have 10 minutes to get your bum into gear. 

Your radio call comes “Common Sense, Common Sense, Prepare Your Boat!   To which you answer “Port Police, Port Police, this is Common Sense, Understood.”

To get out of our berth was the stuff of nightmares.  In front was a 70’ Plastic Fantastic which we dare not hit, and behind were 2 yachts rafted up, cutting off an easy escape.  The plan was to have the Admiral hold fast at the bow with a forward line (extra fenders added) whilst the lackey on the wheel hit reverse and full left rudder to rip the stern out to midstream, at which point the boss could let go and we would proceed in a stately fashion backwards into the channel.  Worked perfectly.  No boats were damaged in the filming of that exercise, and we then ponced about in the channel waiting for the bridge to part (it falls down a little, then retracts to each side from the middle).  At one point in the procedure, me foolishly assuming I was first, I glanced upstream and saw the massive fishing boat Konstantinos bearing down on us.  This is a bridge where might-is-right and big guys go first.  I let him pass.  Then the call came from the Port Police “Common Sense, pass the bridge.”  I swung in behind Konstantinos and then found a cheapskate plastic dude trying to cut me off – a couple of these motorboats arrived late and we knew they hadn’t had time to register and pay.  Suddenly he backed off and Carol said he had just been told by the Port Police to get back in line!  Didn’t know her Greek had improved to that level, but back off he did.

Through we went.  Now we’ve done this a few dozen times going down the ICW, but this one is apparently a drawcard.  There were hundreds (hundreds!) of sightseers on the bridge waving and cheering as we thundered through, hoping for all get out that the tide didn’t suddenly kick in.  Once through, we ambled off to starboard to a huge wide open bay that is 30’ deep almost to the edge and anchored for the night in still calm waters.  The tension was all relieved, we hadn’t hit anyone and we hadn’t hit the bridge and the Australian flag was flying high (we had a young girl come along earlier in the night asking it we knew so-and-so because they moved to Australia.  She was a bit young to understand how big it was but I’m sure if her friend’s brother plays for Carlton I’d know).  We also met a man called Peter who lives in……Karrinyup.  Milverton Avenue to be precise.  He is mostly retired, the kids run the business and he has bought an apartment down near the bridge.  He wanders to Greece each year then heads home when it starts to go coldish.  He offered to help us out by driving us to hardware stores but I’d already gone all over town not having any success so we missed a later catchup.

Out in the bay, it was a couple of dry-and-dry’s and off to the bunk.  (Cinzano Bianco, 750ml, €6.00, not even on special!)


Down the channel

Today was a big one.  51.8 nautical miles.  We passed a superb new bridge over the channel to Evioa, 128’ high from memory, with a whole mess of guys in small boats fishing in the narrows.  Each one had a beach umbrella on his boat and a small inboard motor and tiller.
 

 Bridge fishing, Chalkis style

Farther on down we passed one of the signs of “Le Crise” in Greece – an entire modern cement plant idle and shuttered.  Then, three or four small ships laid up, rusting away.
Cement plant - out of commission 
 
 
Rusting away 

We came across a man out chest deep in the water fishing for ?  Maybe occies?  He had a pole which didn’t have any net on it so it wasn’t for scooping and he was way out in the water.  Any suggestions?
?
  
We were intending to anchor in a small village only 12 miles from the last night’s anchorage but we got there so early we decided to make some more miles. 

Old lighthouse
 

Bad move.

The Meltemi kicked in and we were then hunting for a home for the night in 40+knots with one 52kn coming off a mountain.  Long story short, we motored right across the channel and are in…..
 
The Bay of Marathon

What a beautiful bay this is.  We are at least a hundred metres from shore and are still only in 14’ of water.  The charts lie.  We couldn’t get a hold in close (so we couldn’t swim in to the beach bars L ) but further out we are in tight.
 

The Bay

This is where Darius the Persian dickhead got his arse well and truly whipped by the Athenians in 490BC.  Darius didn’t like the fact that the Athenians and the Eritrian cities combined to assist in the Ionian revolt.  (We passed Eritria earlier in the day.)  He sent two guys with a bucketload of men and ships and took Eritria but then when he tried Athens, he came up a little short and all his guys got killed a lot.  We are only 17.4 nautical miles from Athens here, about 30-something kilometres.  Looking into the west here we can actually see the two passes the Athenians blocked off to bottle the Persians up.  This setback, and then Darius’s son Xerxes' unfortunate encounter with Leonidas and the Spartans, gave rise to 200+ years of Greek ascendancy and then the rise of Western Civilisation.  The wind is still howling somewhat but the Greeks camped in the trees are enjoying themselves - it is the final week of Greek holidays and some are still making the most of them here.

The Admiral and I are enjoying Gilbey’s G&Ts in the cockpit - the wind might blow, but it is a hot wind and we are still in our bathers.

 

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