After several frustrating delays we eventually sailed from Kalamata on April 11th. We made a modest passage of just twenty five miles down the coast to the well sheltered cove of
Limeni, where we spent a quiet night at anchor, though we experienced some quite strong gusts of wind tumbling down from the mountains.
The strong wind continued the following day, speeding us on to
Mezapo at the southern extremity of the Taygetos range. Safe at anchor that night, we were buffeted by 28 knot gusts. It howled; the boat swung; the anchor chain snatched. We were reminded to:
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”
Our first major headland,
Ak Tainaron was passed on day three. We had rounded the Mani peninsula and were now headed north, but not for long. We ducked into
Porto Kayio for two days to shelter from a gale, and for the first time put our diesel powered cabin heater to use. Thus we were well tucked in; dry, warm and safe from the storm.
The gale over, an exhilarating twenty mile spinnaker run on the 15th took us to the beautiful bay of
Ormos Levki on the island of Elafonisos near the Malea peninsular.
Ak Maleas, gateway to the Aegean
We rounded Ak Maleas, and entered the Aegean sea the following day. Fifteen miles further up the coast we tucked into Monemvasia, a quiet fishing harbour overlooked by the Byzantine fortified village of the same name. We cycled across in the late afternoon, and spent a very pleasant few hours exploring its fascinating citadel.
Monemvasia Church
The Citadel of Monemvasia
Chapel Cove in Kaprarissi, just twenty miles further up the coast, proved to be unspoilt and tranquil. We stayed two days, enjoyed our first swim of the year and walked a most pleasant coast path to inspect the town.
Spring is at its height now and the wild flowers are just stunning. Profusions of Poppies, carpets of Crown Daisies, Mallow Leaved Bindweed, Pitch Trefoil; not forgetting the deep blue Scarlet(!) Pimpernel and Winged Sea Lavender, to name but a few. Their colours are only matched by the fantastic smells of the wild herb gardens that abound.
Some of the hills are quite good too.
Spetsai also detained us for a couple of days. We cycled into the old town, explored the port, and inspected the traditional wooden caiques under construction in the yards. Private cars are banned from town, but ironically only to be replaced by swarms of noisy, smelly two stroke motor bikes.
We called into Lavrion (Athens seemed too daunting) on the 23rd, in order to get a new Serial to USB connector. It’s a special lead that connects our GPS to our laptop chart navigation system. The system had crashed in Kalamata due to finger trouble (mine) and more traditional navigation techniques have had to be pressed into service in the interim.
Magic was in the air! I couldn’t find the lead, but the man in the IT shop said he had a gadget that should do the job. The box had been opened so I could have it for ten Euros. It didn’t work! So I got my ten Euros back. But while I was messing with it I did something, I’m not quite sure what. But the old one started working and has been fine ever since. So if you’re looking for a computer wiz kid, I’m your man.
Or then again, perhaps not…
From this point forth our Odyssey has taken on a new direction. We are no longer on passage. It doesn’t really matter where we go or rest our heads. For the next couple of months we will go more or less where the wind dictates. I will pretend to be a Gentleman. And of course, Gentlemen don’t sail to windward.
The foredeck hand at work
A good south westerly was blowing on the morning of the 25th so up went the kite and we positively bowled along. The main and genoa were stowed and we still touched seven knots. Quite exhilarating.
It didn’t last all the way unfortunately and eventually died away to nothing. Nonetheless, we arrived in Kea in time for a very late lunch.
In the late afternoon we got the bikes out of their stowage in a cockpit locker and cycled (much of the way) up a Mount Everest of a hill, to visit the old town (Chora). We had a great time exploring the winding narrow streets, the tunnels, countless steps and the innumerable churches. We eventually returned to the boat at breathtaking speed, free wheeling all the way back to the harbour.
A typical Cycladian church. This one on Milos.
Our next islands were Kithnos, Serifos, Sifnos and Kimolos where we found lovely sheltered anchorages. The sailing was predominantly down wind in cool, but bright conditions with the spinnaker doing most of the work. Just cracking sailing.
Milos. The second anchorage.
The harbour in Milos was created by an enormous volcanic eruption that literally blew the centre out of the island. Its flooded crater provides an inland sea/haven. We tied up on the town quay and spent a rather uncomfortable night bouncing up and down and surging back and forth in the swell. We should have left at once, but delayed while we ate our supper. By the time we had finished it was almost dark. To have left then could have changed the situation from one of mere discomfort to putting Sula and ourselves in danger.
In the morning the wind was still blowing at the top end of force four, so we decided to seek a more sheltered anchorage. Whilst preparing to leave, we were provided with an example of first rate seamanship as the slab sided ferry berthed stern to the quay, broadside to the wind. I would not have liked to attempt the same manoeuvre with Sula in those conditions. However, it’s a useful lesson on the art of the possible. If you have the skill and nerve.
Don’t try this at home!The sea between Milos, Kimolos & Poliagos is a delightful cruising ground reminiscent of the Scilly Isles. Interesting pilotage and always some shelter to find whichever way the wind blows.
We left these islands on the 5th of May and have now arrived at the delightful island of Paros. But I will tell you all about that another time. Suffice to say:-
‘Twas brilig and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves.
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Spring in Paros
