SERENITY NOW

When we last left off, our intrepid adventurers faced an uncertain fate.... It was the night before we were about to cross the Straits of Messina without a weather forecast. Both dog tired, we went to bed early after setting the kedge anchor. That turned out to be utterly ineffective, and we had one of the most uncomfortable nights so far, both being tossed back and forth across the bed as the boat rolled to and fro all night. At dawn after little if any sleep, glad at least to be off the bed, I jumped into the dark water, and with some effort managed to heave the kedge anchor up from the deep. We then raised the main anchor and set off in a South Westerly direction aiming for Siracusa on the South East of Sicily. It turned hot and hazy, the water was calm, the breeze was light, and the uncomfortable swell from the previous night had turned into a gentle rise and fall of the bow as we cut our way forward. The radio chatter has shifted from Greek to Italian. We heard a message repea

  Well our last day in Greece has finally rolled round. There’s pages and pages I could write about how good it’s been - oh wait: I’ve done that already! This morning we are braving the dreaded check out process. Dreaded, because regardless of what has been agreed or written post-Brexit, the reality is that it’s up to the official on the day as to how easy or difficult this process is going to be. First stop - Customs: this cleverly hidden building, not marked on local maps, is tucked around the back of a dusty lorry park, and guarded by the three mangy local dogs with whom we’ve made tail wagging acquaintance over the last week. With growing trepidation we reach the door - it’s locked. Oh dear, fallen at the first hurdle. Thankfully before panic sets in, a man opens it a crack and asked us our business. We’re told to wait while he goes to get his supervisor. She in turn informed us that we didn’t need to show our papers there at Customs, and we should head to the police station. We th

  Staying the majority of time on the anchor has its benefits.. It’s peaceful, just us and the lapping of the sea. You can dive in and out of the water whenever you want. You can wear whatever you want, birthday suit included. ...and best of all: it’s free. That all said, on the hook, you don’t get the same social interactions you do in a marina or make the quick friends you do tied to a town quay with neighbours on both sides literally an arms length away. It’s been a nice change this week to meet another couple with whom we’ve hit it off with. We met first in Corfu town. We’d anchored close to the fresh water tap on shore, perhaps a little close to a catamaran flying a boxing kangaroo and a Peruvian flag (...not Austrian as I’d first thought). After a few friendly shouts back and forth we established that a) we were both Aussies and b) being anchored close was not going to be an issue for the hour or so we needed to be there. We filled our water and headed off on our way. A few days

17 July 2021 After one final trip ashore to fill up all our water reserves, we left the bay at Corfu town yesterday morning. I’d go back again - it’s a busy but calm bay, with a great little town, undeserving of the less than great reputation it seems to have picked up over the years. The destination for the day was Lakka - a small quayside town on the Northern tip of Paxos. This is a half day sail directly South from Corfu. When sailing our ideal would be a constant breeze somewhere between gentle and brisk that pushes or drags us along sedately at around 6 knots. Well, perhaps a very small portion of our day yesterday fell into that category, but the rest fell into three very differing conditions: Firstly there’s the barest whisper of wind, that however much you’d like to sail in, will only result in frustration and limp flappy sails and not a lot of forward motion. Second, was with the wind just about creeping above the whisper level, but directly behind us - to some this would mean

We remain anchored in Corfu town harbour. Chez having been second jabbed yesterday after a confusing and frustrating goose chase around town trying to track down the correct vaccination centre. Now we’re both successfully dosed up, our only hurdle to waving goodbye to Greece is to secure our vaccination certificates from the local ‘KEP’ office. I’m not sure of the exact title, but KEP in Greece is a cross between a citizens advice bureau and a council office. We have an appointment there on Friday, which if successful, will mean we can check out of Greece and head off to Italy and beyond in the next few days. I had a few things to pick up from the local chandlers - a decent walk around to the other side of town next to the commercial harbour. I went there yesterday and on my return randomly came across a cricket pitch - nice to see, and not altogether surprising as we’d read of a thriving cricket league here in Corfu. There’s no fixtures at present - yet another victim of Covid. Having

  On the boat, days (sometimes even weeks) can go by with not much happening. The last few days, whilst not exactly action packed, have at least given me something to write about. Let’s start with two nights ago: no wind forecast turned into a vicious howling, rattle the rigging all night blow. Not much more to say about that other than it’s really not very nice. Waking from what little sleep we did manage, bleary eyed we headed off into town to visit the local market. Expecting tourist tat: T-shirts, fridge magnets, shot glasses and the like, I was presently surprised to find an open air market with only two types of stalls. Firstly, fruit and veg - with a wide variety of Mediterranean faire . All very fresh and well presented, and presided over by smiling helpful stall holders. The second type: fishmongers - again all stocked with a wide variety of well presented stock, and judging from the lack of smell, all quite fresh from the sea. Along with our fruit and veg choices, we opted fo

  1st July 2021 Petriti - Corfu Town We upped anchor this morning from a small town on the island of Corfu who’s name escapes me. Chez despairs of my awful memory for place names - She is (as all the best CVs say) an ‘avid reader’ and takes the lead in the overwhelming majority, if not all, of our passage planning sessions. In doing so, she can remember and recall the names of the places we stay quite easily... me, not so much. While Chez reads, researches and absorbs, I’m either busy fixing something (mainly toilets) or spending my time daydreaming, bird-watching or rambling on in my diary like this... I can however clearly recall places by the meals I’ve eaten there, or by something that occurred there. For example: Hydra: A rude Romanian woman and two ginger cats (didn’t eat them, just met them) Trizoni: Zucchini fritters and a weedy anchor drag. Polyagios: Where my shoe broke... So, for me at least, our last anchorage will be known as: ‘The place where England beat Germany in the f