Wednesday, 7 August 2013

Escape from the Meltemi


We have been in the Port of Merika on the island of Kythnos, after a couple of days at anchor in Apokriosi, a nearby bay. The dock is free, the harbour master helpful and the island itself a delight. It has fine beaches and rugged scenery – craggy hills criss-crossed with miles of drystone walls. The harbourside town is a pleasant mix of tourist-oriented tavernas and traditional shops. The butcher’s shop has no sign – everybody knows that the old woman with the moustache and no front teeth sitting out the front is the butcher! Best of all, Kythnos was where we caught up with our friends Laura and Olivier on Hephaistos once again.

 
Bouillabaisse with Laura and Olivier
 
Dry stone walls


The first few days were good but on Thursday a departing yacht picked up our anchor and dislodged it from where it had been holding us for three days. We didn't know this and went off to the Chora on the bus. (many Greek islands have a Chora, or central place)

 
Pretty house in the chora on Kythnos
 
Street in the chora, Kythnos


When we returned we had been bashing into the dock and our Turkish friend Barbur had repositioned our fenders to try to stop it.  The anchor kept giving way in the strong winds and we had no choice but to go out from the dock and try to re-anchor in 30+ knots.  That held for 20 minutes and we dragged again.  With the help of the dockmaster Manolas, Barbur and our friends Olivier, Laura and Joachim plus assorted onlookers we went out again.  This time it held, but only overnight.  Next afternoon when the Meltemi really fired up we dragged again. Same deal, same crew.  This time we moved a little to the west and it held.  Today, Sunday, was forecast the same, 25-30 (more of that later) but Monday and Tuesday were scheduled to be worse, 35-40. Hephaistos had left the previous evening, bound for Mikonos. We had originally planned to sail east with them, but the Meltemi is apparently even stronger in the eastern Cyclades, so that was not the direction for us!

 
Hephaistos leaves for Mikonos
 


We decided to head south straight away rather than wait for the inevitable dragging - it would be worse because the harbour is now full, as Greek annual leave began on Friday.  Our reasoning was better 30 knots pushing us down out of this atrocious island chain than being sitting ducks in the port. We carefully plotted a series of day sails, with supposedly sheltered anchorages – Kythnos to Serifos, Serifos to Sifnos, Sifnos to Folegandros, Folegandros to Santorini, then a fifty mile to Crete.

Some days are learning experiences and some days are just bastards.

 
So off we went.  Thank you forecasters, one and all.  Our 20-25 knots very quickly turned out to be 30-40 knots.  Still, with the boom brake holding out the main, and a small handkerchief of genoa we barrelled along at 6s and 7s, lots of 8s and one 9.  We have photos!

 
We arrived at Serifos an hour before we thought we would in 40 to 50 knots and were not happy.  We anchored in the best shelter we could find and had one sustained gust that reached 52 knots.
We decided not to stay – we would just anchor for  a short time to tidy up the mess from rolling downhill all morning and prepare for an overnight sail, but then we couldn't get the anchor up in the howling gale force of this abysmal Meltemi. It took both of us working up front at least 45 minutes to get clear, reclaiming our anchor chain a few links at a time between gusts.

 Then we were off again.  Exiting the bay we were doing 5.5 knots with no sail out.  When we hit open water, we pulled out a little main and a little genoa and choofed off headed for Santorini overnight – so much for the plan.  It was quite pleasant - 5 knots with a little roll but nice enough.

 At night the wind eased and we went to put the flapping genoa away but it was stuck.  Inspection from the foredeck showed that the No1 spinnaker halyard had come free and was wrapped into the genoa.  It took Terry another 40 minutes on the foredeck unravelling it from at least a dozen turns around the forestay. The deck was slippery and we couldn't see the top of the forestay to tell how many twists were in it but eventually it was free.  Better now than in the morning when the forecast is for 30 knots with gusts of 40.   The way these guys call it, it will probably be 60.

Anyway, we have little wind right now and it's 11:30pm. It's still warm-no-shirt-warm and nobody else seems silly enough to be out here tonight.  We're just abeam of the island of Folegandros and should hit Santorini around 8am. The further south we go, the lower the influence of the Meltemi.

 

[Later….]

 

Supposedly.  It came back at 1:30am and heralded the beginning of another hard day.  We cruised along in the dark at about 4.5 to 5 knots with only a little sail out.  It was rolly and uncomfortable, just the sort of conditions Carol hates.  The inevitable occurred and she felt seedy all day.  To add to our problems, the batteries began to show signs of  loss of power, and even the engine couldn’t keep up with them.  Power reading of all 12v manuals on board began and then Terry checked the aft pair of batteries.  This is not easy in a marina let alone on a rolling yacht in a seaway with 30 knots of wind. Everything had to be removed from our tiny “garage” (basically, our shed) including bags, tool boxes, parts boxes etc to get access to the panel to lift off to get at the two massive RV batteries there. Terry began filling them with distilled water and eventually used up 2 litres.  Reminder to check more often.  That helped and they began to hold about a volt more but he was exhausted and covered in sweat and blood – yes, Mr Fixit went and cut something else again.  And the fan belt is loose – perhaps not enough power is getting in – another job when we reach a dock … Still, that crisis out of the way the real fun began.

We had to approach our destination from the north west.  Wind here was no longer behind us but from the West, as was the now considerable swell.  We had about 2 hours of cutting across this, with some very scary rolls and pitches.  Couldn’t use the autopilot and hand steered the whole way.
As we approached the Bay of Spinalonga, towards our marina (all thoughts of anchoring out had long disappeared), the wind increased with the katabatic effect of the huge mountains on Crete.  The highest gust we managed to see was 56.9 knots, with the majority over 45 up to 53.  It was an hour of intense concentration. [This was a very impressive sailing effort by the Capt. though he wouldn’t say it himself.]
                                                       Capt after a rough night

We arrived in the town/city – as yet, we were unaware of exactly where we were apart from the name of the marina, and of course just as we arrived the wind picked up again.  We were assured by Gregori, the marina security guy that we would be ok and to enter the marina slowly.  With all the fenders out and all the lines prepared, Carol was relaying messages from the VHF (the cockpit extension got kicked out and is not working) and were told to come straight ahead.  A bit of forward/reverse/almost hit the Yankee boat/ manouevring and we had a stern line on.  Then the lazy line on the bow and we at least weren’t moving anywhere.  The wind was so strong we had to winch the stern in to the dock.

Crete in sight
 

Anyway, after all that and a tip for Gregori (these guys are worth their weight in gold) we were all finished with the Meltemi and the Cyclades.  Out to dinner at 11pm (there were still people arriving then as well as us) for a gyros and a couple of Amstel “big”s

We slept until 10am today then began wandering about what we now know is Aghios Nikolaos, and what a wonderful place it is, too.  As usual, Common Sense has found one of the world’s gems, but more about that later.

The past 36 hours has felt like an adventure novel or an action film. The hero and his faithful sidekick battle formidable odds to reach their journey’s end. The setting: craggy Cycladic islands, the indigo sea, the fierce gales of the Meltemi winds; even the narrative structure was there – three major challenges or complications to overcome: retrieving our anchor and chain against the wind in Serifos; untwisting the tangled halyard from our headsail in the darkness on a heaving sea; restoring battery power to the boat, once again under tough conditions. Then, just as you think you’ve reached a safe harbour, the final challenge of docking in a rising gale. And now, the resolution: sitting in an open air tavern overlooking Spinalonga Bay in Crete, a cold beer and charcoal grilled gyros, we enjoy the warmth of the night, the solidity of the ground beneath us and  the chance to relive the adventure in comfort and safety

 

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