Cruising the Saronic Gulf

What a thrill it was to see the yellow taxi appear around the bend, and emerging from it the smiling faces of Kathy, Leonie and bag boy extraordinaire Steve, ready for ten days of respite from the southern winter sailing the Greek islands aboard Common Sense. Terry and I had spent a couple of days at Zea Marina in Piraeus getting the boat ready – and I would like to give the place a plug for its excellent services and much more reasonable rates than the marinas further to the south-east, which appear to be targeting the superyacht market (40 euros per night at Zea vs 175 at Glifadha!).  Zea has very competent docking guys who escort you into your slip with their dinghy, friendly, helpful reception staff, clean showers and a list of good recommended boat services. Robert, the electrician who finally fixed our dodgy wind generator, was outstanding.

Once everyone had settled in and started to come to terms with our limited space, non-existent privacy and the vagaries of gas systems and marine toilets, we took to the streets of Piraeus for the traditional perpata, along with a few thousand Athenians. Dinner at a small family restaurant was an introduction to such delights as the traditional Greek salad, tsatziki dip, zucchini fritters, cheese pies and excellent beer for 2.50 for a 500 ml glass. This was an experience repeated many times in tavernas, with the addition of fresh calamari, souvlaki, moussaka, beetroot salad, octopus and other fresh and delicious foods.

 

The next day was spent preparing in earnest, filling up our tanks with water and fuel and shopping for provisions in the five storey Carrefours supermarket, an experience in itself. In the afternoon we swam at the local beach – an unattractive setting and stony ground (making the Elle McPherson walk down to the sea a total impossibility: it ends up as a sort of mincing stagger), but beautiful clear cold water. Kathy noted that some of the heftier locals gave us an opportunity to observe Archimedes’ Principle at first hand, though there were plenty of Adonis and Aphrodite types as well. We followed this with further observations from a harbourside coffee lounge and a sunset perpata right around the circular harbour, checking out the luxury yachts, tiny fishing boats and ‘ouzo palaces’ nestled together in this ancient harbour that once protected the galleys of the Athenian fleet.

So finally it was time to head for the islands. We had planned to do a circuit of the Saronic Gulf in a series of comfortable day sails, anchoring out in quiet bays or docking in fishing harbours as the wind strengthened in the afternoon. The gods of sea and wind – Poseidon and Aeolus in these parts – smiled throughout most of our cruising days, offering us smooth seas and at least some wind assistance if we needed to motor. The first day took us to the nearby island of Aegina, a popular weekend retreat for Athenians who can afford to escape the heat, pollution and crowds of the capital. We anchored in Ormos Marathona, a quiet bay on the western side of the island where we had a swim then rowed the dinghy in to a tavern set over the water for a memorable sunset meal.

 

After coffee, a morning swim (Kathy is actually part mermaid and needs to be hydrated regularly) and breakfast we set off south for the island of Poros. This was a day of true Mediterranean sailing – dodging ferries and charter fleets, constantly putting up and taking in sails, turning on the motor when the wind suddenly died, then up with the sails again as 20 knots appeared from nowhere. With five of us aboard to keep watch and deal with lines and winches, this was fun instead of being stressful and exhausting. It was also beautiful, as we sailed past the various small islands rising steeply from the deep aquamarine waters of the Aegean. Steve did a fine job on his first stint at the helm – he inspired such confidence that Terry actually dozed off for a while!

 

The harbour in Poros is a busy place, with ferries and hydrofoils coming and going, the local car ferry constantly crossing between the island and the Peloponnese mainland, fishing boats both high tech and basic wooden rowboat style, and pleasure craft from superyachts to speedboats, charter yachts and cruisers, some of whom have settled in and are not going anywhere in a hurry. The busiest place is the town dock where all these boats seem to jostle for space, so we decided to stay in the anchorage on the northern side of the strait. Because so many of the islands are actually the peaks of submerged mountains, there is deep water right up to the shore and it can be difficult to set the anchor – and to be confident that it will hold in the switching winds. You need to put out more chain than we are used to - and then there is the worry that your boat has such a wide circle of potential movement that there is a risk of collision with other boats or the rocks near the shore. We stayed put, but needed to check constantly as our position changed relative to the land and our neighbouring boats.

We decided to take the dinghy over to one of the tavernas on the nearby shore, but that was before Matina, the persuasive owner of Matina’s Taverna, intercepted us from the dockside. Matina’s Taverna it was. And the food was wonderful: fresh, tasty and so generously portioned that the mermaids decided to swim back to the boat to work it off.

 

Over on the other side of the strait, the Peloponnese side, we saw Hephaistos at anchor and had a chance to catch up with our old friends Lauren and Olivier. It was good to share stories and to hear about their adventures over the past couple of months, since we were in Malta together.

In order to explore this rather wild and rugged island properly, we decided to hire scooters for the day. Steve, Terry and Kathy had had enough riding experience to convince the proprietor that they could be trusted in charge of a scooter, but Leonie was required to demonstrate her competence – a test she passed with flying colours. As for me, my lack of experience and famous lack of coordination saw me relegated to the back of Terry’s scooter – much better than ending up splattered and broken on a mountain road somewhere. It was a fantastic day. We climbed ever higher, taking in awesome views over the Aegean islands, stopping to pay homage to Poseidon at the ruins of his temple and stopping for a dip and a drink at the beautiful but unfortunately named Vagionia Beach.  Terry located a couple of geocaches to add to his tally, one of them taking us up to an ancient windmill high on a hill overlooking the old town. Drinks with Olivier and Lauren, a barbecue aboard Common Sense and a general exhausted collapse into our bunks, rocked gently by the swell. I only had to get up once to check if we’d dragged anchor.

 

 

After our requisite morning swim, the intended destination was the island of Hydra. We enjoyed pretty good conditions with the usual motor – sail – motor that we’ve come to expect, and pretty soon the high, barren slopes of Hydra appeared, with its one small harbour town nestled between huge craggy hills. It was suddenly clear why there is no motorised transport of the island, just the sure-footed donkeys and their carts. A couple of boats were anchored and tied with long lines to the rocks on shore, but a buoyed-off beach took up all the water that was shallow enough for us to anchor. We made a couple of attempts, but the strong winds and depths made it impossible, so we motored around to Mandraki where the depth problem turned out to be similar. The island of Dhokos didn’t look promising either. The Captain was heard to mutter that “Hydra can get stuffed!” So, change of plans, over we went to the mainland side to the harbour town of Ermione, where an enthusiastic tavern owner helped us to back in to the dock in front of his establishment. Ermione is a pleasant village built on a small peninsula. It has an ‘inside’ which is the fishing harbour and town dock, with a frontage of small family hotels, tavernas and interesting little shops. The ‘outside’, where we berthed, was lined with restaurants. The end of the peninsula is covered in light pine forest and there is a nice track to walk right around it, checking out the remnants of a couple of temples, up-market apartments, some lovely eateries, and spectacular views of the sea and surrounding islands.

 

 

 

Our guy on the dock served good coffee and cheap beer, so we were quite comfortable despite the wind kicking up a bit of chop from time to time. We stocked up on excellent fruit and veges, including those huge tomatoes, ripened on the vine, that smell and taste like the essence of summer. Swimming in Ermione involved a steep climb down a rocky path and a stagger over the stones, but the crew were undaunted and the perfect water was its own reward.

 

So where to next? We had five days left, and it looked as though the final day, Thursday, was due for strong Melteme winds – a good time to be back in the marina and maybe do a day trip to see the sights of Athens. So, working backwards, we wanted to spend Wednesday sailing back; Monday and Tuesday we decided to spend in the town of  Ancient Epidhavros (not to be confused with New Epidhavros in a nearby bay) which would enable us to see the amphitheatre there and perhaps get to the ancient city of Mycenae quite close by. So, Sunday was a pleasant enough sail - surrounded by hundreds of craft out for the weekend - back up to the Straits of Poros where we found a quiet anchorage near Ormos Vidhi at the far western end of the channel and enjoyed another on-board barbecue accompanied by Steve’s G&Ts, ouzo, and supermarket wine that comes in big plastic cordial bottles.

After the obligatory morning dip, we were able to sail most of the way to Epidhavros , heading north and then west around Methana (named for its smelly sulphurous volcanic fumes) aided by a moderate north-easterly wind. We managed to find a good spot to anchor, on a shallow bank (4 metres) that kept us just clear of the swimming beach in Palaia Epidhavros. We had dinner that night in a hotel restaurant that happened to have the ruins of a temple to Artemis in the garden (ho hum, another 5^th century BC ruin!) so we offered a libation to the goddess. Virgin sister of Apollo and protector of young women, Artemis is known to be particularly vengeful and creative in her punishments, so it pays to stay on her good side. The restaurant owner was quite a character. He had travelled extensively, lectured on Greek culture and had strong opinions on most things, his native land included. This is a joke he told us that he said captured the Greek national character:

Jesus Christ returned to earth and granted a miracle to three men. To a German he said, what do you want and the German said, my neighbour has a beautiful house, I would like a house like my neighbour’s. And it was granted. To the Englishman Jesus said, what do you want and the man said, my neighbour has a fantastic car, I would like a car like my neighbour’s. This also was granted. Then Jesus turned to the Greek and asked, Spiros, what do you want? Spiros thought carefully and said, my neighbour has an excellent goat that provides milk, cheese and kids for meat. Do you want a goat like your neighbour’s? asked Jesus. No, I want my neighbour’s goat to die, said Spiros.

Fortunately we have only encountered the generous side of the Greek character so far. Despite economic hardship, people seem to know how to enjoy life. As one man told us, “We have the sun, the sky and the sea. Even the Germans can’t take that away from us!”

So, back to the journey. We arranged to hire a car – a Volvo – to be delivered the next morning so we could visit Mycenae and the amphitheatre. Steve was the driver, giving the Captain a break from the helm for the day, and he did a sterling job, especially on the second leg of the trip where we managed to choose the ‘scenic route’ that wound through the mountains and offered some very exciting switchbacks and unexpected potholes.

Mycenae was once the centre of the Greek world, home to Agamemnon who commanded the united Greek forces in the siege of Troy and was then murdered by his wife and her lover on his return home. His son Orestes avenged the murder. The palace site occupies a high, barren peak with a commanding view of the surrounding farmland all the way to the sea: it would have been almost impossible to attack, but also quite a march to get to anywhere else. I could just imagine a messenger struggling to the top then being told, OK, now here’s my message back to him. Tucked away behind the car park is a huge stone vault, long ago robbed of its treasure, that is purported to be Agamemnon’s tomb.

The exciting drive mentioned earlier took us back to Epidhavros to the sanctuary of Asclepius the healer and the amphitheatre, one of the largest and best preserved in Greece. The acoustics in the theatre are remarkable. Sounds made at the ‘sweet spot’ at centre stage can be easily heard in all 1400 seats, including the cheap seats way up the back. We tested this successfully despite quite a lot of ambient noise, then Leonie, Steve and I treated the scattering of tourists to a rousing chorus of Advance Australia Fair. At least the Chinese girls applauded politely. Apparently the theatre design filters out low frequency sound (crowd mutterings) and amplifies high frequencies like music and the voices of actors. Once again, some ancient technologies were quite astounding.

 

Next in a packed itinerary was a snorkel over the ‘sunken city’ at Kalymnios Beach, just around from our anchorage. Well it was more of a sunken villa than a whole city, but still very interesting and a great way to relax and cool off after a day in the car. The walls, a paved road and the remains of large terracotta storage vessels were still clearly visible in the shallow water. Back to town for a few cold beers, dinner and a slightly bumpy unsettled night at anchor.

 

We must have scrimped on prayers and sacrifices somewhere along the way, because the wind next day was blowing strongly from the north west, right on the nose. As we headed out of the bay, a moderate swell was also evident. So, it was a long beat back with the winds gusting up to 45 knots as we threaded our way through the big ships at anchor outside Piraeus harbour. Back at Zea, there was far too much wind to back into a tight slip so Terry skilfully manoeuvred us in bows-to. Phew! The crew looked surprisingly chipper, and after a shower and a bit of a clean up we were all up for a night on the town.

The Monastiraki district is the place to be in Athens in the evening, with hundreds of shops, restaurants and bars. The illuminated Acropolis and Parthenon shine like a beacon above the lively scene. Kathy exercised her advanced shopping skills while Leonie seemed to win the heart of every shopkeeper and restaurateur we met. Another great dinner accompanied by traditional music and an opportunity to watch hundreds of people pass by on their evening perpata.

Our final day was to be a tour of Athens on a hop on hop off city bus. The trip up to see the Acropolis was fine; though predictably hot and crowded it is still an awesome place. Phase 2 was not a success, with a demonstration in the city centre meaning that the bus was diverted through the grimy dilapidated residential quarters of Athens, missing many of the highlights and prolonging a hot, uncomfortable ride to the point where we started to get anxious about being back on time. It meant that we couldn’t enjoy a relaxed farewell meal together – just a final shower, pack and a quick coffee – but maybe that was just as well, as I for one was feeling pretty emotional at having to say goodbye. Thanks Kathy, Leonie and Steve for making the LONG trek from Bunbury, Western Australia all the way to Piraeus and back, and for being such an awesome crew. We hope you have some happy memories of life aboard Common Sense, and remember that those T shirts entitle you to join us any time, anywhere!

 

 

 

 

Hello Greece (Terry)

We just spent a few days in Preveza, where we checked into Greece.  It is easy to see why employers shun the Mediterranean and choose the Northerners.  One giant cockup is a nice way of putting it.  No s.o.b. knows what they’re doing, they just make it up as they go.  The Customs Office uses handwritten ledgers and the old dot-matrix printers because they still use idem paper!

They tie their files together with Legal Tape.  Unbelievable.  We had to go there first to get a form, then take that form back across the bay to the Port Police, who put a stamp on it, then take it back to Customs who issued us with our Cruising Log.  Costs €30.  Good for 50 ports and 6 months.  Then we had to take that back again to the Port Police and pay €15 for the harbour.  They were busy telling a Canadian that he owed them €866 even though he had his boat in the Cleopatra Marina for the season, on the hard.  He was pissed off because no-one told him and also he didn’t have the money.  I could see a plan forming in his brain – Italy in an overnighter!

Then a Port Police lady tried to explain to me the “Tax” for cruising in Greece.  They tried to bring this in years ago for everyone but the EU Commission in Brussels told them it was illegal.  So they dropped it for EU boats but they kept it for foreigners because their governments didn’t complain.  It is not written down anywhere, it is not law, it is not regulation, it just “is”.  It is (for us) 12metres by 1 Trimester by €14.67 plus VAT at 23%, or about €204 for three months.  OK, so far so good.  I don’t mind paying that for free harbours, waste disposal etc etc.  But then dopey tried to tell me that for the 2^nd three months the fee came to €866 and the calculation was the same but instead of 1 Trimester it is 2.  OK, my maths is a bit oldish but the total comes to €410 or something, not €866.  She’d just finished arguing with the Canadian and told him he owed €866 so it must have stuck in her mind.  Apparently Customs collect this “unwritten tax” when you hand back your Cruising Log. €70 a month to cruise through Greece is ok by me, but not the €866 figure.  If that applies, we’re out of here before the 3 months is up and into Turkey.

Preveza was nice – lots of great simple restaurants in little back alleys.  Can’t get our Vodafone to work – bought a Vodafone dongle (only €21 here) but the card wouldn’t connect.  However, it will connect if I put it in my Wind Italy dongle (unlocked) and connect to the Vodafone Greece 3G network.  How does that work?

Preveza is the mouth of a large inland type sea – goes for 18 miles (nautical) with towns and cities on it.  Apparently it is full of sea life, with dolphins, fish, turtles all over.  There are anchorages everywhere so we’ll probably come back this way and stay.  A large-ish turtle came past the boat one morning and had a look at us.

 

 

It is where Octavian, who became Augustus Caesar, fought Mark Antony and Cleopatra in the battle that settled the Civil War that began when Julius Caesar was assassinated.  The battle site where the galleys fought is where we motored in through the channel.  The site of the Battle of Actium is just over the water way on the other side of the peninsula.  You can see it quite easily from the town dock.  There used to be a ferry across there (it’s only about 400 metres) but now they have a tunnel under the entrance from one side to the other.

We walked around Butrint in Albania last week, along streets that Julius Caesar himself walked in – they’re stone roads, only a few feet wide, and they lead from the town gates to places he would have gone to, like the theatre etc.  Feels strange when you stop to think about it.  Then we were tied up a matter of 200 meters from where Cleopatra’s royal barge was tied up (Octavius was a few miles north)

In Preveza, there wasn’t much built in those days and the armies simply camped out.  Octavius built a new city called Nikopolis to celebrate his victory and we went to that museum yesterday.

The food in Preveza’s restaurants is simple and good.  Greek salad is usually €5 and comes with a massive thick slice of Fetta on the top and superb tomatoes.  Always very nice, as the land around Preveza is fertile and the locals know how to grow stuff.  Another common dish is Beetroot salad, just simple boiled beetroots cut up with olive oil and vinegar.  The Grilled Fetta is very nice – it is not crumbed or anything like that, it is just slices of tomato with chunks of Fetta laid over it and put under the grill – it part-melts and the tomatoes heat up.  Very tasty.

It’s Pepper season now so these are everywhere.  The Greeks stuff them with cheese (so do the Albanians) and then grill them so the cheese melts.  Excellent.  Meat is usually small chunks or strips cooked on an open fire.    It is very easy to find stuff to like here.  The Greek beers are excellent – Fix, Alfa, Fisher are all good.  Mythos is made by Carlsberg and I find that a bit on the sweet side.  My favourite is probably Fix.  They do a Fix Dark, and there were some in the fridge, but this is summer so it can wait until winter.  Last night we had dinner in “The Mermaid” or “The Captain”   They didn’t seem to know what to call themselves.  There was a traditional Greek band playing in the alley – two guys and a girl singer.  It was very, very good music, and all the Greeks were singing along, even the ones who were just walking through on their nightly Passage.  The Greeks call theirs a Perpato, the Italians call theirs a Passegiata, the English call theirs a Promenade, which they pinched from the French anyway.  I guess the Australian equivalent would be Bog Laps.

We were on the Town Dock, side-to, and lots of people come down to fish at night (some during the day, too).  We were down below the night before last when we heard an almighty roar that sounded like a huge windstorm arriving.  The boat wasn’t moving so it wasn’t that and we raced upstairs to see what on earth it was.  It was a massive school of sardines leaping out of the water onto the dock – obviously penned in by dolphins.  There were thousands on the dock and people were grabbing nets full or handsful or buckets full.  This happened three times in about ½ hour.  The third time they were around our boat and the sound of them hitting the hull was deafening.  Some things you wouldn’t believe if’n you didn’t see them.

 

We left Preveza early and motored on down to the “island” of Lefkas.  It is only an island because they’ve cut a channel through one part and stuck a bridge over it.  It’s called the Lefkas Canal and it goes for miles.  There were about 5 of us north-side waiting for the bridge to open on the hour.  Southbound traffic has priority but the idiots on the south heading north didn’t seem to have bothered to read their transit rules and were charging up the waterway.  I was in the lead of the southbounds and I was not all that impressed so I just motored ahead and made them stick very closely to their side of the channel.  It was a nice motor, with no wind, and we came out into the bay that has the Island of Skorpio in it.  Lots of yachts (charter ones) doing laps to see it but we didn’t bother.  The number of yachts here is staggering.  The marinas are forests of masts and the waterways are busy but not clogged, but it’s not July yet and also we are still in Northern Greece.  You cannot afford to relax as we are used to, with both of us having a little lie down in the cockpit for half an hour or so.

 

We arrived at our destination of Meganisi by about midday and anchored with a line tied to the shore to keep us straight.  Carol jumped in and swam it ashore and then I hauled it tight on a winch.  There were probably about 15 boats in there, 8 or so swinging on the anchor and the rest of us tied to a tree or a rock.  Carol spotted a discarded anchor below us in about 18’ of water.  I was going to try to retrieve it, although there must be a reason why it was cut free – maybe it’s stuck too hard?  More likely it is off a charter yacht and they simply didn’t know how to free it and cut it off.  I would have liked it as we would then have 5 anchors.  Our friend Dave Renoll (Captain Dave of R&R Sailing School) says you can’t have too much chain and you can’t have too many anchors.  At $450 a shot for the ones for our boat, a freebie would have been good.  However, we swung south in the night and ended up a long way from where it was and it was all too hard.

It’s a nice little anchorage – however, the round-island road was about 50’ behind us and there was a wedding on.  All over the Med, a wedding means a line of cars with various ribbons on them driving nose-to-tail and sounding their horns off.  As this is a small island, they all did two laps just for fun.  And they don’t ease up on the horns.

We played dominoes for a while and drank the last of the Sicilian red.  Opened a Calabrian red.  Beat Carol in dominoes thanks to one and one-only massively awful round she got.  We were level pegging for ages until the hand-from-hell turned up for her.  Finished dinner (veal cutlets from Italy) with mashed potato.  Fireworks on at the tavern over the anchorage, with folk music and probably dancing, though we couldn’t see it up that high).

So, how’s Greece you ask?  Well, they are nice sophisticated people who love a good time and east simply and well.  They are as pleased as all getout when I tell them I have a Greek Great-great grandfather. (Patrioti?)

From Meganisi we motored on down intending a shortish day of about 28 miles.  However, out planned anchorage had Katabatic wind pouring off its slopes and we couldn’t stop.   We went from zero wind to 35knots in a matter of half a mile.

So it was off to port and into the Gulf of Patras.  We found our way into a tiny dredged harbour called Kalydonos   We were going to tie to the town dock but couldn’t work out the depth so we stayed off and anchored.  Very pleasant except that there is a mountain behind the town that is awe-inspiring.  It is massive and it’s steep and it’s right “there”.  Any rocks come off, they drop on town.

 

 

We motored again the next day to Aigio, a town that has seen better days.  There is a new commercial wharf which has yet to be finished.  The ferry shown on the charts no longer runs.  The trains no longer run along the waterfront and the train sheds are empty with a rock precisely in the middle of each window.  We anchored tucked up tight inside the tightest bit of the bay about 30’ from shore and rowed in.  We first wanted to try to walk up to town but it was designed to keep barbarians away and was a mile uphill.  So we wandered along the bay to the yacht club and back and found a nice little restaurant playing some delightful music – Manos Hatzidakis – and we spent a pleasant hour or so there listening, eating and having a beer and a wine.

 

In the morning we up anchored and off to just short of the Corinth Canal, about 5 miles from the entrance to a place called Assos.  No chance of getting in to the marina there – some kids were jumping off the rocks at the entrance and standing up!  So we anchored in about 12’ of water in what we thought would be a pleasant spot.  However, the inshore was marshy and we were visited by mosquitoes galore.  Not a nice night.

 

At 8 the next day, we headed for the Canal.  We called up a mile away and were told to wait with the others gathered and almost at once all 7 of us were allowed through.  Good timing.  The Canal is about 3.6NM long and takes about 45 minutes to transit as there are sections where you must go very slowly to stop the sides falling in.  At the Eastern end, you tie up and go pay – for us, it was €203, which makes it the most expensive canal in the world per mile, but what it saves in time is worth it.  We refueled and headed to a small island 20 miles from Piraeus for what promised to be a pleasant anchorage but turned out to be a little bumpy.

In general, from Albania to just shy of Athens was a very easy journey, with lots of yachts north of Lefkas but barely a boat in sight in the Corinth Canal end.  The second last day before Assos we saw only two fishing boats and two cargo ships in the whole day.

 

We left the island and motored into Piraeus’ Zea Marina at midday or so the next day.  Met by a chappy in a dinghy, who landed and helped us to dock, this was a pleasant entry to one of the world’s great harbours – the AIS screen was lit up with over 50 contacts just in the port environs.

Piraeus and the islands up next…..

Corfu to Sarande, Albania

Sailing from Le Castella, you might remember that we were still deciding on our destination. With very variable winds throughout the night, which meant that we were always putting up or taking down sails, motoring then back to sailing, we didn’t have the stamina for the full distance to Sarande in Albania. And some lovely Greek islands were right there in the way, so why pass them by? Our first night in Greece was spent anchored in a pretty bay at Erikoussa, just north of Corfu, where we learned that no island in Greece is so small that it doesn’t have a taverna.

 

Next day we followed Guy and Seed in Skaf over to the small harbour of Kassiopi in Corfu. The best known island in the Ionian, Corfu is a beautiful island of forests and green hills, along with the blue water beaches we had been expecting. At this time of the year, the whole island seems to be covered in flowers and ripening fruit on the trees – it really is gorgeous and you can see why the rich and famous have long been purchasing villas here. Some of the locals are understandably resentful, however, and you can see why as soon as you try to walk anywhere. Private villas mean that access to the best places is impossible, and many (most?) of the beaches are not available to the public. We anchored in a lovely bay around from the harbour and used the dinghy to get into town – beach access is obviously not a problem if you can swim off the back of your boat – but I am glad we’ve managed to keep our beaches public in Australia. I would hate to have to watch through the fence as rich foreigners played on my local beach.

 

We were due to leave with Skaf for Sarande after two days in Corfu, but sadly Seed’s father passed away and they had to return to France. So we journeyed on alone, making the crossing of just six nautical miles between Greece and Albania at this point, and docking comfortably alongside the Catamaran Ooro, out of Fremantle in Western Australia. Unbelievably, another Freo boat, Saving Grace, came in the same day, making three of the four yachts in Sarande Harbour all registered in Fremantle! We were welcomed in by Agim and Leela, who helped us dock and then processed all our paperwork. They have been endlessly helpful, and if there is ever any sort of problem on the dock, one of them will magically appear to sort things out. When the crew of Ooroo had some difficulties with an official in a neighbouring bay – he threatened them and made them leave without even letting them retrieve their line – the line appeared on the dock next to their boat the following morning, and Agim informed them that the fellow had been dealt with, that unfortunately there are still some people who are living in the past.

Three Fremantle yachts in Sarande harbour

Ray and Annette, from Saving Grace, have just wound up a chartering business they’ve been running in the Ionian for the last seven years and they are now doing some cruising for their own pleasure. We went with them on a day trip to one of Sarande’s famous attractions, the Blue Eye Spring, where clear fresh water of just 10 degrees C gushes from the earth creating a powerful stream of the most refreshing water you can imagine. The place is in deep woods, where apparently lynx and bears still abound. There are certainly plenty of butterflies, electric blue and gold dragonflies and bright green frogs. Kind of like fairyland, really. It has a couple of simple restaurants and a few basic cabins, and the absence of tourist “attractions” is part of its appeal.

 

 

The other must-see near Sarande is the archaeological park at Butrint, a forested peninsula that has been described as a “microcosm of Mediterranean history”. One of its earliest incarnations was Greek, where there was a sanctuary of healing dedicated to the god Asclepius. A substantial Roman settlement succeeded that, and there are fascinating remains of the theatre, villas, temples, baths, fountains and the aqueduct. In the Christian era Butrint was the bishop’s seat and there are extraordinary remains of a 5^th Century basilica and a baptistery with a lovely mosaic floor, still largely intact. Then there is the Norman castle and the fortifications of the Venetian period. Finally, Ali Pasha built a castle in the late 18^th Century, where he entertained celebrity guests such as Lord Byron. Interestingly, the excavation of Butrint was undertaken by an Italian team beginning in 1928, part of Mussolini’s drive to recreate the glories of the Roman Empire.  You experience Butrint as a walk through the woods, suddenly happening upon an ancient well, or a section of a massive wall, a villa with fine brickwork in stone and terracotta or the remains of a temple overlooking the shimmering estuary. Once again, there is just enough infrastructure to make it enjoyable – explanatory plaques, drink vendors, a small local handcrafts stall, maps, toilets – but no touts or hawkers, and you can actually get in close to look at things. The only restricted areas are the actual digs where work is in progress. It is quite wonderful.

 

 

Food, both the fresh produce in the market and meals in restaurants, is excellent and very cheap. I’m told that all the fruit and vegetables are organic as the farmers cannot afford chemical fertilizers or pest control. They are certainly delicious – and it’s cherry season! Our favourite restaurant was Fredi’s Taverna, just a street back from the harbour on an upstairs veranda. We tended to eat a range of small dishes, like Greek meze or Spanish tapas, where you can taste a variety of the local specialties: meatballs, crunchy rice croquettes, stuffed peppers, squid, fried zucchini etc. This, plus bread, beer and fruit, typically set us back about three euros per person.

Perhaps Albania’s long stretch under the dark cloud of the dictator Hoxha has had this one silver lining: that it has not (yet?) suffered the overdevelopment that blights the Mediterranean coasts of Spain, Portugal, Morocco, Tunisia and probably other places we haven’t yet seen. The hotels and apartments being built here seem to be on a human scale, and the waterfront is lively and attractive. We’ve found the people friendly and welcoming without any pressure to buy stuff. The young people often speak excellent English and are keen to try out their skills. You can see evidence of the privations of the past in the remnants of brutal Stalinist architecture and in the small stature of the older people. Often the older folk seem stony-faced and suspicious, which is hardly surprising given what most of them have lived through, but a smile and a greeting typically transform the encounter; they beam in return and assure you that you are very welcome in Albania.   

 

Many thanks to Linda and Hugh Moore of Wild Goose, on whose recommendation we came here; we’ve thoroughly enjoyed our stay and we would definitely pass on the recommendation to other cruisers.

Calabria

Calabria, the province on the sole of Italy’s boot, is the original home of many of Western Australia’s Italian families. They emigrated during the 1950s via assisted passages, leaving one of Italy’s poorest regions which had been further devastated by an earthquake in 1953. Mostly young men, the pioneering migrants seized the opportunity to work hard, then started vineyards, market gardens and small businesses of their own. Once established, they sent home for the rest of the family, and for brides. In some cases, entire Calabrian villages were transplanted to WA.

 

We hired a car for a few days to explore the Calabrian countryside while Common Sense was moored in the nice little town of Le Castella. It was fascinating to see the small towns and villages nestled in the valleys, or perched atop the steep hills. Some of them look as though they haven’t changed since the 1950s – except for the satellite dishes beaming in endless soccer matches and melodramatic soapies.

Driving was fun, if your idea of fun includes hairpin bends on mountainsides, potholes the size of bathtubs, driving along ridges with a sheer 500 metre drop on both sides and numerous Italians overtaking you on blind corners at high speed. A bit of a buttock-clencher for me, but Terry embraced his inner Andretti and was driving like a native after day 1 (apart from the blind corners, of course).

 

The scenery was really spectacular in the mountains north-west of Crotone, views of deep green woods, fertile farmlands and olive groves laid out in patterns and the hazy blue Med lapping it all in the distance. We found a beautiful lake in the mountains at Palumboso, eerily deserted despite the glorious weather and the spring flowers in bloom. It is a popular resort in the summer, and also for skiing in winter, but Italians, like Americans, seem to be on a strict holiday schedule – you go to certain places at certain times. The only place we could find open was a restaurant with an ice-rink inside! It wasn’t operating, but in the season it must be amusing to eat your pasta while watching a hockey game or some figure-skating. And the pasta al funghi was great, by the way, even though we were the only patrons.

 

Other excursions - to Crotone to see the Greek ruins and the archaeological digs and to Isola di Rizzuto – and we also grabbed the opportunity to fill our fuel cans (25 gallons = $A279) and do some heavy shopping (ie mostly beer). After a week we had become very fond of Le Castella, especially the ritual passeggiata up the main street each evening to the Camel Bar, where we could sit and enjoy a quiet drink and watch the passing parade.

Remaining column from the Temple of Hera at Crotone

A few days of good weather lay ahead, so it was time to set forth across the instep of Italy. Would we head for Santa Maria de Leuca on the heel of Italy (80 nautical miles*), the Greek islands north of Corfu (128 nm) or all the way to Albania (150nm)? It would all depend on the wind, the seas and our stamina.

Mystery destination...

* We travel at an average of 5 knots, which is 5 nm per hour

Goodbye Sicilia - We'll be Back!

It wasn’t difficult to spend a few more days in beautiful Syracuse. We checked out the Archimedes museum – definitely one for the maths nerds, though they’ve put in an effort to make it interactive. Amongst his many contributions to physics and mathematics, Archimedes was Syracusa’s most potent weapon against the invading Roman fleet during a siege. Once the fleet was trapped in the harbour, the Syracusans used Archimedes-designed giant catapults to hurl rocks and other debris with great force against the ships. He also designed an array of large mirrors, which were assembled in a curve to focus the sun’s rays onto the sails, igniting them. The Romans were under strict instructions to capture the genius alive, but Archimedes was killed in his house, somewhat ironically, by a soldier with a sword.

A little out of town there is an archaeological park, home to an ancient Greek theatre which is still in use (Oedipus Rex, Antigone and The Parliament of Women were playing while we were there), a Roman theatre and an excellent museum. The wealth of artefacts was organised in a sort of spiral through the ages, from Neolithic to Roman, so you could really see the evolution of pottery, metalwork and other artefacts, as well as the influence of trade and conquest.

After five days at anchor, using the dinghy to get around, we decided to moor at the town dock for a while to make it easier to take on water and food, and to enjoy a few nights out at the city’s great restaurants. The town dock is free for five days, and you are right there on the beautiful boardwalk, in prime position to watch the locals make their passeggiata in style each evening. The only downside is that you have to shift position every now and then as superyachts or small cruise liners come in. Unfortunately at this time Terry broke his toe accidentally kicking something in the cockpit, so our excursions were curtailed somewhat. We did manage a walk around the tip of the old city of Ortigia, which was beautiful, and of course eat a couple of excellent meals (Don Carmelo’s is highly recommended). Good water was free from a public tap near the dock, and we made many trips with jerry cans to fill the tanks. Remember, nothing on a boat is easy! While loaded up with water cans (and several good meals) Terry broke our passerelle (gangplank for getting on the boat) and we had to make an emergency one from an aluminium ladder purchased at the local hardware store. Actually, with a bit of modification this turned out to be ideal - plus we also found a neat little fold-up cart for toting water cans! So after one final visit to the wonderful market for fresh swordfish, tomatoes, cherries, oranges, baked ricotta it was nearly time to move...

Common Sense (right) on the public dock in Syracuse

 

Another superyacht was heading in, so rather than moor again, we decided to go out on the anchor again for our last night. We farewelled Yorge and Karina, a delightful Greek couple who gave us some excellent tips for our upcoming cruise with Kathy, Leonie and Steve (can’t wait to see you guys!) and then headed out into the bay. We really recommend Syracuse as a destination – there is a lot to see and do, and it’s a genuinely warm and welcoming place.

A pleasant day of mostly sailing plus a bit of motor when the wind changed, and we reached Acci Trezza, our planned overnight stay. Well that was the only part that went to plan. It was marked as an anchorage but there was clearly no place to anchor in the tiny fishing harbour, so we tried for a mooring between a fishing boat and a French yacht. Aarrgh! We had been lulled into false confidence by the easy Med mooring on the dock in Syracuse where we could drop the anchor at the bow and back in with plenty of space and good holding on the bottom. This was a different matter – the wind blew us sideways, the bow-thruster only worked intermittently and the anchor didn’t dig in! We turned and tried again, with the French guys trying to assist, but we managed to get stuck on the anchor chain of a large fishing boat, with the wind blowing us hard onto it. The French blokes tried to float a long line out to us to pull the boat off, but it would only float so far so I had to jump in and swim out to get it. It was still too hard to pull us off in the strong wind, so we launched the dinghy in record time and Terry tootled around to attach a line. And what happened then? The wind changed and we floated gently off the chain. Marcel and Olivier, our new best friends, pulled us in sideways to the dock behind the fishing boat and everyone was able to breathe again. A few of the local fisherman had looked on with amusement during the whole process and advised with the usual Italian + English+ mime and gesture that they would be going out at midnight and that we should stay right there!

The Cyclops' Islands

 

Whew! Time to relax and share a beer with Marcel and Olivier, a jovial and generous father-son team of cruisers. Olivier sounds like a similar thrill seeker to our Paddy – kite-surfing, snow-boarding and snow-kiting, which I had never heard of before but involves ski-ing up the slopes as well as down them. I hope some kind boater is there to help them when they need it; cruising karma seems to work this way.

We recovered enough from our ordeal to go for a stroll around this lively little town. Apparently it’s an Italian tourist destination rather than an international one, so there were plenty of people out eating and drinking and making their passeggiata around the town and the waterfront. Acci Trezza is famous as the home of the Cyclopi in Homer’s Odyssey, and an array of strange pointed rocks at the harbour entrance are supposed to be the very rocks hurled by the enraged and blinded Polyphemus as Ulysses and his remaining (uneaten)sailors made their escape.

The next morning saw us underway early, escaping before the return of the fishing boat made exiting any more difficult. We were heading for Taormina, a comfortable three hour sail up the beautiful east coast of Sicily, which is dominated by the brooding presence of Mt Etna, towering over all. The land around the volcano is incredibly green and fertile from the mineral enriched soil and the abundant water from melting snow – clearly the reason people continue to live in its shadow despite the ever-present threat. Etna creates her own weather, with clouds of vapour issuing from the crater. Her last major eruption was in 2001, but there are frequent hiccups and lava flows which are said to be spectacular.

Etna beginning to smoke...

 

It wasn’t really a pleasant sail, with quite a significant swell making for a rocky journey. And unfortunately, the swell was coming right into Taormina Bay. We had a look at the anchorage, where three other yachts were moored or anchored, and decided that it was just too rough and dangerous: even the catamarans were bouncing around like corks. So, sadly, we had to give Taormina a miss this time around, which is a shame as it looks like such a beautiful town; perched high on the hills with a fabulous view of Etna and the coast. A funicular railway takes you up the slope from the water to the town. Ah well, we’ll definitely return to Sicily and will save it for next time.

Taormina - the sea looks much calmer than it really was!

So now we had only one choice – head for the mainland – but the nearest useable harbour is a long way away and the south coast of the ‘sole’ of the Italian boot is generally fairly hostile from an anchoring point of view. Le Castella seemed like the best place to head for, and that meant an overnight trip and arrival at about 10am the next morning. So we changed course and hoped for more wind, which did eventually arrive as we crossed the Straits of Messina. The narrow point of the Straits is where Ulysses encountered Scylla and Charybdis, respectively a many-headed sea monster and a giant whirlpool, one on each side. Apparently these were based on fact – there was a maelstrom here, until an earthquake changed the topography, and it was also a common place to encounter waterspouts – like snake headed monsters and just as dangerous. We only had a bit of strong wind to contend with, which was a relief. During the night we had good winds and were able to sail at 6 knots for a good clip before the motor had to go on again. One thing we are learning is that Mediterranean weather is very localised and rapidly variable. No wonder it took Ulysses ten years to get home – those winds that got loose from the bag are still out there!

And finally we made it into Le Castella, a lovely small marina with a huge old Spanish castle built on the point, over the ruins of a Greek temple. We backed in with no trouble at all and the staff have been friendly and helpful, the rates very reasonable. The Ionian Sea is calm and blue, the beer is cold and we’re very happy to be here in beautiful Italy.

Syracusa (Terry)

We sailed from Porto Palo after a slightly disturbed night (wind across swell) and made good time to start with – wind was off our beam at about 20 and we made 5s to 7s for quite a while before it quit on us.  On with the noisemaker before the wind returned.  Unfortunately it was a Noserly so it just made the motoring uncomfortable as we had to head out directly in to it to avoid a no-go nature reserve that two other yachts didn’t seem to give a stuff about.  When we turned after clearing the corner of the reserve we had 20 knots on the forward side and turned off the engine to sail into the Grand Harbour of Syracusa.  Sailors have been coming into this harbour for thousands of years so we were probably boat number 1 squillion and twenty.

 

Entering Syracuse harbour

 

It is magnificent and when we arrived I saw a yellow boat in the distance.  It was Benoit, our friend from Monastir with his family and Guy and his family in front of them!  Off to the port was Eric, the solo French sailor we spent time with in Monastir, Lampedusa and in Malta.

 

Benoit, Flo and family aboard Baba

 



Wonderful.  Off we went to the market this morning – one of Europe’s best.  Got two large Sole for dinner – cleaned and skinned in front of us, €7.  Fresh baked ricotta, €4.  Stuff, stuff, stuff.

 

Then we walked all over town trying to find the Immigrazione (about time we behaved ourselves).  I think we are rare and nobody bothers because we got sent all over the place from Guardia Costiera to Immigrazione and finally to the Polizia Frontiere.  They were excited that we were there and about 5 of them came out to see us.  The man we were dealing with took our passports to stamp and came back and told us “Special stamp, Syracuse” and indeed it was, a Syracuse stamp in the passports.  Shook hands all round with him and his boss and off we went.  Legal!

We dinghied back later in the evening and went for a wander on the promenade.  We wound our way up the stairs to the Cathedral but couldn’t go in for a stickybeak because there was a wedding under way.  We went across the piazza a few metres for a drink and sat outside with children kicking soccer balls, kids riding bikes with dogs chasing them and a very accomplished accordion player entertaining us all.

The bride came out of the church to an honour guard and the whole square erupted in applause.  She was impossibly beautiful, and his nibs was just the picture of elegance and charm (possibly a little pride in there also?)  Off they went for a promenade to the north for a while, then they sauntered back for a promenade to the south and departed.  All the stuff of romance novels and movies.
 

Everyone in the bar switched from beer and wine to Aperol Spritz.  Although I have resisted being a trendy in the past, this seemed like a good trend to follow and a pleasant glass it was too.

 

Across the way, a couple of old-ish nuns came out of the Cathedral admin doors.  All at once, the group of children kicking the ball around ran over to the older of the two for a hug and a kiss.  They genuinely fussed over her and she hugged and kissed them all.  They went back to their game and the two nuns wandered off across the front of the Cathedral and another group of kids spotted them.  Same deal, they all ran over to the older one of the two for hugs and cuddles and kisses.  She must be somebody special because they all ran to her, boys and girls alike.

We wandered through the old streets for a while and then returned to our dinghy to get back to the boat.

What a wonderful city this is.

Next day was not so pleasant with some savage southerlies so we all kept our heads down.  We went into town for a visit to the Archimedes Museum (he lived in Syracusa) and a visit to the Fonte Aretusa for a Geocache (through a small aquarium which was nice).  We found a small deli for lunch and had afor €1.70 each.  They were the best arancini we have ever had anywhere. (they were a Sicilian invention)  I also discovered a beer made in Sicily called Ceria, which was twice the price of the arancini!  But it wasn’t bad at that.

One of my favourite TV characters, Inspector Montalbano, is a well known arancini lover and has contributed to the popularity of the dish.  I was very excited to see a TV Weekly type magazine in Malta that announced yet another season of Montalbano with almost all the original characters.  He is placed in the Ragusa area, where we are likely to spend next winter so I can see all the Montalbano places – there was a book in the bookshop we went into yesterday all about the series, with all the common scenes from the TV show.

Enough fantasy stuff.  Today we went to town to get some wine.  We were told by our friend Rene that there was a wine retailer over the bridge near a florist by the church with the round front (but not the ugly new monster church in Syracusa).  Off we went to find this purveyor of fine wines.

He is located in a small shop near two mechanical repair shops with a handpainted sign advertising different wines.  Inside are about 10 massive hogsheads with labels on them advertising the wines within.  The old man’s name is Sebastiano Russo.  We tasted a couple and bought 2 litres of a red for €3.20 and two litres of a white for the same.  He fills up used 2 litre water bottles for you to take.  4 litres for €6.40?  Of a three year old red and an aged white.  He also gave us a sample of a dessert wine that we will go back for – that was upmarket stuff at €3.20 a litre.

Then we wandered back over the bridge to the old city, picked up our laundry (€10 for 8+kg) and sat on the quay to have a couple of beers before dinghying back to Common Sense.

This is a nice place to be, for sure and certain.