Bank Holiday Weekend (Pilos)

 

15 August 2020 (Pilos)

We arrived yesterday afternoon at a single yacht sized enclosed bay just North of the town of Pilos on the Greek mainland... well on the South West Peloponnese to be accurate. 

It’s quite shallow, so with some trepidation Chez took us in, while I manned the bow on the lookout for swimmers and any submerged rocks that might not have been charted. Once in and happy with our spot, we dropped anchor in 3m and settled down. The bay is open to the sea to the West, small rocky cliffs North and South (the Northern one sporting an impressive looking castle ruin and large cave) and around its Eastern edges lays a long sweeping sandy beach. The Greeks (as I understand it) are marking the entry of the Virgin Mary into Heaven, and have been given a public holiday to celebrate. This has translated into the beach now being well populated with laughing children, umbrellas, scantily clad ladies, muscled chaps splashing around, and one or two dads being happily buried up to their necks in sand. It’s a nice scene, and good entertainment for us as we while away the afternoon/evening taking dips in the exceptionally warm water, and reading. By bedtime the beach has all but cleared, a few raucous groups remain, but the noise is at an acceptable level - should be in for a good nights sleep.

By midnight we both realise this is most certainly not going to be the case: the wind and swell that had been uniformly and gently rolling in from the West all afternoon, decided to split up, with the wind turning us side on to the swell. This translates into a 45 degree hard roll that goes on long enough each time to be uncomfortable and make sleep impossible. It then ceases long enough to plump your pillows, and try to settle down again, and just as you drift off, once again the boat starts lurching to and fro. 

Not sure exactly how much, if any, sleep either of us got, but by 9am the following morning (today) the swell has settled. I find Chez up on deck trying, unsuccessfully, to doze up there. Oh well, it’s another day, and it really is a lovely spot. 

As the long weekending locals once again begin to fill the beach, I take the tender over to the shore, with the plan to investigate the castle and cave.

After scrambling up strength sapping sand dunes (reminiscent of the Sean Connery film ‘The Hill’), I decide that just getting up half way will do for today. Took a couple of nice snaps over the water, and headed back to the boat, pausing only to loudly but ineffectually reprimand a nasty, bully who was kicking his younger, shorter, podgy victim in the chest. 

Back at the boat, raised the tender (putting my back out a little in the process) then up anchor, and away down the coast to the town of Pilos. It’s imposing cliffs shelter the town from any swell, so hoping for a better night tonight. As we approach, the town shows itself as a terracotta roofed picture postcard, lush green cliffs behind, and the obligatory ruined castle in front. We head for a run down looking marina that is sporting a number of tired looking hulks, and after a quick recce decide on a side to position that Chez eases us into as I jump off and rope us in - they’ll be days when it doesn’t go smoothly, but happy that this season our skills have improved in all our mooring techniques. Lazy afternoon - me seista-ing, before writing this. We’re now heading into the town to explore.

Town was a nice compact affair centred around the tree shaded main square. The square contains a triangular monument to three victorious Admirals, with captured Venician and Turkish cannons at its base (a decisive battle having been fought here during the Greek war of independence). A good selection of cafes skirt the square and quayside we didn’t stay out long, it being still quite hot - well into the 30s. Returning to the boat discovered we’d (once again) exhausted our wifi allowance for the month - a frustrating situation for a number of reasons. As the sun went down, I saw some very encouraging splashes from quite close to the boat, so rigged up my rod and from the quay began hopefully casting a spinner into the likely area.. after fishing for perhaps half and hour, I let out a sigh, realising that what I had thought was a big fish, was in fact a large turtle... something that would usually have delighted and amazed me, instead had me traipsing back to the boat declaring glumly:

‘It’s a turtle’ - strange life I lead these days.