SERENITY NOW

  27th June 2020 (Poros) Not exactly a sailing diary today - when are they ever?  I really needed to get some of the quirky details of our last 3 sets of quayside neighbours down before they faded from memory. The first of the three was when we were at Hydra (our last ‘home’). Bearing in mind the quay there is already what we would usually think of as full - a group of 4 catamaran party boats sporting massive red yellow and blue striped Romanian flags come into the quaint peaceful dock with doof doof booming and half cut scantily clad supposedly ‘beautiful’ people dancing around on deck. There’s a monohull sized space next to us which remarkably one of these wide cats manages to wedge into. All good, they’re friendly and not actually  the doof doof boat - once the lines are tied, that immediately changes: fully cranked up, deep bass music starts to blare out - I need to sort it out straight away: I try to shout at the captain - he’s 2m away but can’t hear me over the din. When he

  23 June 2020 (Dokos - Hydra) Seem to be writing a lot of these at the moment, but the places we are seeing definitely deserve a mention.  Last night at sun set - or at least the time when the sun usually goes down, as it was blocked by a sky filled with angry clouds, we experienced our worst storm so far.   We were anchored just off the pebble beach/ rocky shoreline at Dokos, and had set anchor the opposite way to the way the fierce wind was whipping up. Torrential rain hammered us and was accompanied by frequent loud and close thunder and the associated lighting flashes. Time for the electrics to hide in the microwave...  We both joked our way through it - at one point Chez kanchoing me to make me jump upright and ensure my head was higher than hers to avoid being electrocuted!  As storms always do - it passed. Our anchor held, and we ended up having an early night. Woke with the flotilla of charter boats which we’d watched shuffle into position last night still lined up like

  22nd June 2020 (Dokos) Leaving Spetses we headed North towards the city of Napflion - the previous capital of Greece. On route we had favourable wind (light and on our stern) to let us try out our spinnaker sail - our first attempt at putting it up. I stood at the bow to release the sail from the bag, whilst Chez manned the winches at the stern. With a satisfying ’whooomp!’ the wind filled it and we spent a gleeful 10minutes marvelling at our new toy (new to us anyway...it came with the boat but had been left at the back of a cabin gathering dust until then).  Why only 10 minutes you may ask... I made the mistake of not enjoying it as it was, and wanted to adjust the lines here and there. All went downhill at that point, with a few shouts, a flappy sail, lines in the water and some frantic minutes trying to snuff it back into its bag. We did try again a little later with similar levels of success...plus a badly frayed halyard. We have now decided we’ll need to read up on some of th

  13th June 2020 (Spetses) We briefly visited the town quay at Spetses, but even at this time (early season, no tourists or charters and everyone in Covid lockdown) we were unable to squeeze in anywhere. Having come to that conclusion, Cheryl was forced to make the tightest of prop walk turns for us to exit - beautifully executed.  Leaving there, we anchored up the coast in a nearly deserted bay on the Northen tip of the island with only one other boat in sight. The water is a postcardesque turquoise, and is fringed by a lip of sandy rock and an occasional pebbly beach.  The gentlest of breezes blows over the low surrounding hills, with it bringing wafts of pine and oregano. There’s some of the usual quiet anchorage sounds: cicadas buzzing, water gently lapping, goat bells tinkling, but added to this usual ensemble is an occasional incongruous cry/squark from a peacock (having been here for a few days now, the best description I can come up with is that it sounds like a cross betwe

  7th June 2020 (Monemvasia) Woke to sunshine and lessening wind, tied side to on the fisherman’s quay at Monemvasia. Chez, waking earlier than me had discovered an issue with the so called ‘man head’ ..yes that one. I got up and made my way across the cabin, a warning cry of ‘Don’t go in there!’ and a note on the door handle with the single word ‘NO’ and picture of a shocked face, gave me sufficient indication that this was not going to be the best of mornings for me.  Dressed in a hastily wrapped sarong, I started working through the diagnostics of what could have gone wrong. At one point curiosity did get the better of me, and lifting the lid, was faced by something that would have had Martin reaching for his camera. After a few failed attempts to fix the problem, I eventually managed to get it going again - best guess is the intake pipe had sucked in a plastic bag stopping the flow, and once I’d cleared that the whole thing needed to be re-primed.  If you’re sick of this entry a

  5th June 2020 (Crete - Mainland) Tonight, we’re setting off from Marathi Bay, a picture postcard little beach resort. A couple of straw roofed tavernas, a few beach umbrellas overlooked by snow capped mountains and to somewhat spoil the overall effect - it’s frequently buzzed by NATO jet planes from their base just over the hill. At around 11pm, we up anchor and head off in well lit, full moon conditions. Our course is taking us North initially to round the final headland that we need to pass before we turn more Westward to head up towards the Greek mainland, and Monemvasia. The sky is clear, the water calm, and with the Great and Little Bears clearly visible to guide our way, it’s a treat to be on the water.  To further enhance my own enjoyment, within 10 mins of getting under way, I see a shooting star - delightful! We’re both fairly bright eyed and bushy tailed initially, and enjoy the sea and each other’s company, raising the genoa ineffectually every now and then in the weak w

  4th June 2020 (Crete) Two days ago, after a long, and I’d have to say mentally challenging few months locked down in Ag Nik marina, we are free! Waving farewell to those foolish and brave enough to see us off in the drizzle on B pontoon, we slipped away, carefully avoiding our opposite neighbours long bow-sprit. The day had something of a British summers day about it: wet and horrible, but showing potential - in cricket terms; it had a ‘we might get a few overs later’ look. Our destination for the day is Dhia, a little uninhabited island about 10 miles North of Heraklion. A motoring day (as opposed to sailing), but both very glad to be on the water once again.  Having seen no other boats or ships on the water, after a good day, we made it to Dhia with a couple of hours light left, these I spent naked, swim / exploring the little cove we were sharing with the seagulls for the night. There were more sea urchins than I’ve ever seen before, so the initial ‘oh this is lovely’ turned to