SERENITY NOW

27 June 2021 Two Rock bay... we’d puzzled over which two rocks this had referred to as there’s more than two rocks jutting out from the water in the bay. The mystery was solved on our second night there. It must be a translation issue: it’s probably not supposed to be ‘two’ rock bay at all, with all the swell, that should be ‘Too Rocky Bay’! For those of you possibly unfamiliar with sleeping on a boat, generally, in calm weather it’s quite a pleasant experience. There's the sound of gently lapping water against the hull, you’re in your own safe little cocoon. The light to and fro rocking takes you back to being a baby, lovingly comforted in your cot. As I say; generally quite pleasant.  The second night at ‘Too Rocky Bay’ was not one of those nights. The uninterrupted swell coming across from Italy and the matched gentle breeze from the West parted company in the night, and the boats in the bay turned side on to the swell. We’d gone to bed with a manageable amount of roll - en

We’ve spent the last three days enjoying doing very little.  Having dashed up from Crete, we now find ourselves within reach of Corfu (where Chez’s second Covid jab is booked) with some time on our hands. We were at Vonitsa, anchored behind a small pine filled island that smelled as good as it looked. This provided us with some good protection from the swell, and a peaceful still anchorage, that we’ve both slept well in.  There’s two very distinct and different noises that echo around the little bay there: firstly, morning and night there’s a herd of cows that clang their bells as they head off to presumably be milked somewhere. Their bells are distinguishable from the smaller tinnier goat bells we usually hear with a deeper bass tone - this bizarrely puts me in mind of Swiss downhill skiing supporters at the Olympics... but I digress. The second noise, and very much at odds to the first is a hardcore DJ with, what must be absolutely massive speakers hidden some miles away (we couldn

  Rowing back and forth to the tap at the Vliho yacht club to fill our water tanks is a great way to burn off the excellent fish and chips we’d had there the previous night. Once both tanks were full, we raised our anchor and weaved a path out through the multitude of yachts that dot the way past Nidri and Tranquility bay. We’re heading up the canal to Lefkas for a quick shopping stop. The harbour wall at Lefkas has sprouted charter pontoons since our last visit. After a quick there and back recce we opt for a spot on one of these. We manage to attract the attention of someone who confirms we can stay there, and helps us with our lines. Chez heads over to Gemma’s boat in the marina (Gemma and Nick - a lovely couple we met last summer at Dimitri’s on Zakynthos). While she’s away, I opt for a nap - ferrying all that water around has taken it out of me! Refreshed, and Chez returned and happy to have met new cats, we had some dinner. This was a tasty veggie curry that Chez has recently in

We arrived at the oh so aptly nicknamed ‘Chelsea on sea’ a couple of days ago. Fiscado is a chic pastel painted quay town that usually caters to the UKs ‘well heeled and well keeled’ as Alan Wicker would have said.   Our arrival was not as polished as we’d have liked. The town quay, we know from previous experience, is too shallow for our draft, so we’d opted to tie back to shore on the opposite side of the little bay. There’s sufficient space there, as we’d arrived before the main onslaught of charter boats turn up for the day. On the downside, there’s a fairly brisk breeze on our beam, that’ll hamper our tie back plans. We drop anchor and reverse back... a long fraught 90 mins later we’re all set!  That 90 minutes saw us doing various manoeuvres to entertain our soon to be new neighbours. Without boring you, or embarrassing myself, with too many details, red faced from winching we were glad to eventually have a cold beer in hand and settle down to the a much more relaxing pastim

  Having left AntiKythera shortly before dawn, we made our way to the town of Koroni on the Southern tip of the Peloponese. It was a long day of motor sailing that had us still a good two or three hours from Koroni as the sun set behind it.  Coming in in the dark was an interesting experience, trying to reconcile the confusion of lights on shore, and the various hues of the silhouetted land. With growing trepidation we eventually made it to the harbour entrance at around 11pm (we’ve been here before so know the layout). Thankfully the still open restaurants and bars lining the water front gave sufficient light for us to see the other two yachts in the bay, and the small fleet of one man fishing boats tucked in one corner. Our anchor dropped and set on the first attempt, which given the mixed weed/sand bottom, was more by luck than judgement. Once settled, we sat outside in the cabin for a while listening to the gentle hubbub from the restaurant patrons. There’s still a c

  Leaving Marathi Bay in our wake, we made the next 8hr hop along the North coast to Gramvousa. The tall mount behind the beach at Gramvousa provides an impressive backdrop to the well populated beach. There seems to be no visible road or cars, so the throng of people lining the beach must all have come via tripper boats.  We dropped the anchor some way off into clear clean sand.  Diving to check the anchor, I was a little surprised by the water temperature. Chez asked what the water was like... I told her that once you were in, your internal organs slowly start to freeze, so temperature holds no meaning... she decided that now was not the time to try out her new mask and snorkel.  Realising that although it’s a great looking spot, the wind is favourable for our next jump North to AntiKythera. After a cuppa, saying 'goodbye' to Crete we once again upped anchor and headed off. Had a great sail pootling along at around 6.5knots for a good couple of hours (surely poot

3rd June 2021 (Crete) Two days ago, we finally said goodbye    to Agios Nikoloas marina. I won’t say forever, but at this stage, our plans won’t have us returning there for the foreseeable future. That said - I’d still like to eventually tick the circumnavigation box, and in order to do that, a return to Ag Nik would need to be on the cards someday.  Saying goodbye was a combination of emotions: there’s the restrained glee that we’re finally being allowed to leave (having been locked down since last Nov). There’s the realisation that regardless of if we return or not, some of these people who we’ve become close friends to over the last 3 years we may never see again. ...and there’s me just being generally not very good at emotional goodbyes at the best of times. All this made for a few awkward    hugs and ‘to de loos’ which I was glad to get behind me.  Our early morning departure wasn’t as graceful as we’d have liked: Chunky, the cantankerous toothless marina cat, refuse